


Only Time Can Tell..

by PsyenceFiction



Series: Original Stories [1]
Category: David Bowie (Musician), The Thin White Duke - Fandom
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe, Auschwitz, British Slang, Concentration Camps, Deutsch | German, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Gay Sex, Loss of Trust, M/M, Nazis, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Prison, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Torture, Treachery, Violence, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 52,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsyenceFiction/pseuds/PsyenceFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Featuring The Duke. Stepping back a few decades; He finds himself in a predicament he can’t get out of so easily and with no other choice has to follow his path and plot his escape..</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Berlin

**Author's Note:**

> Something a bit different from what I'll be writing usually but I wanted to step in the deep end and explore things in a wide span.

Snow flickered and settled over the thin, sash windows of the room. Candles lit all around his room letting the strong scent of lavender and cigarettes merge into something much more intoxicating. A faint breeze push at the curtains and hit his bare chest as he laid in his bed reading a daily newspaper at the brisk but most beautiful time of day when the sun was just beginning to creep up from it’s slumber. 

Duke sighed softly sipping at a cup of coffee with his reading glasses settled along the end of his nose, cigarette hung against his thin lips. “Oh bother..” He grumbled to himself when the news emerged of something he’d been expecting for quite some time now.. Especially considering the fact that Berlin hadn’t been safe for quite some time. Marches going up and down his street, building being evacuated and more and more shelters and bunkers being whacked up as fast as the poor, underpaid civilians could go. 

So far the streets were eerily quiet and the peace was what motivated him to wake early enough to have those few moments of complete and utter relaxation until anything heated kicked off. Planes flew over his building frequently and every time they brought goosebumps and a lump in throat at faint and yet painful memories he wished not to experience ever again.. But that wish wasn’t guaranteed. 

Looking at his watch, he had a good hour before anyone was due up according to his journal he’d been keeping of specific times and such. He folded up the paper and placed it aside on his nightstand, slowly finishing up his cigarette and looking from the window with his dull mismatched eyes fixed upon the skies. The only beauty this place had left was the sunrise so he’d at least enjoy it. 

“You watch over us and yet you never intervene in these destructive, immoral happenings..” He spoke to the dull grey sky above interested in what could be beyond it with a little gold cross dangling across his neck. Duke didn’t flinch at the cold flakes landing on his bare chest, quite used to extreme temperatures by now and not even a shiver left him. 

\- 

Some while later when the pink and orange flurries had faded and mixed with the blizzard he closed the window and made his way into the bathroom for his morning shower. 

Hot rushes of steaming water ran down his slender body, pale and hairless but still hinting towards the muscular side. He sighed and let it cover him, basking in the wonderful heat while it lasted for the bitter winter waited for him outside the doors anyhow. To him there was nothing better than a good hot shower, especially in times like these; it was his outlet, his escape from the reality as bitter as the weather. 

Lathering himself in soap and running his fingers through his hair to massage his scalp, he hummed softly and began to sing a hymn that always reminded him of her. A woman he’d fallen in love with once. Well admittedly he still was but distance forbode his reach, and he was yet demising a plan to have her back but future was dim around here. 

\- 

After a drawling twenty minutes in the shower, he stepped out and shook out his auburn hair like a wet dog vigourously rubbing his head with a towel for a good minute before he wrapped it loosely to cover his waist and below and wandered back out into the comfort of his bedroom to dress. He was a man of smart, orderly nature and dried himself off to then begin pulling on a sleek fitted black suit with a black tie and gold shades to hide his eyes. A comb was used to slick back his hair into a neater fashion and get the strands from going in his eyes while he worked for the day. 

A gentle knock came at his door and he straightened out before striding over to answer it with a faint, forced smile. “Already?” He asked trying not to sound as bored and repelled by the man at the door as he was. “Alright, just let me grab my pass.” He nodded and went back quickly to grab up his keys, pass and journal which were all small and handy enough to fit in his deep trouser pockets. 

A brief look over in the mirror and fix up of his more stern, dulling look to fit in with the superiors and he was back and out of the door with the fellow friend to get his lift to work. 

Working in these environments weren’t ideal at all but they had to run whatever the weather or they’d all get a visit from gestapo and that was the last thing Duke wanted. Living long enough to reunite with his beloved was the prize he was looking for. Inside the silver faded watch he wore was a secret compartment holding a picture, crumpled and torn a little at the corners but still recognisable and the only photo he had of her but it was enough reference and he took a little look at it everytime he was feeling blue. For all he knew with the world’s current affairs she could be long gone, or have escaped.. He’d rather know she was out of the country and safe but that bet seemed slim and too hopeful for him to think about. 

Duke sighed and lit up another cigarette offering his friend, Alan one. He lit it for him and smiled to himself when the soft pianos and violins strumming of the radio in background began, a classic Fitzgerald song that reminded him of her. The drive wasn’t all too far but the traffic was terrible and snow attrocious so it summed up to a good fourty minutes before they arrived at the office and got out of the car again. “It’s lovely weather don’t you think.” He smirked jokingly with his shivering friend, sticking on a plaid cap and following him down the street. “You’re a kidder..” 

“Alright. Don’t snap your cap..” Duke nudged him playfully and followed him inside, showing his pass and looking the guard directly in the eye as procedure and proof he was of right identification. “How’re the rations treating you Alan?” 

“How’re they treating anyone? Costs me pennies from heaven.” He laughed, getting into the lift with Duke and keeping his head down from the other men around. When they weren’t within earshot from anyone else he got more serious and turned his head just as Alan did, reverting from speaking the German tongue to their language; English. 

“No dodgy business yet then?” Duke questioned lightly, gazing at the numbers slowly changing on the dial above their heads as they went up floor by floor at treading speed. “Nah. I had a close one yesterday though, I think we need to change offices.” Alan informed him with a worried frown. 

When Duke moved to Berlin, he wasn’t at all aware of a war just bustling to kick off until he arrived. The wall went up and split himself and many of his friends and his love life from him. But one man; Alan, offered him a chance to work for it back and it was all he had to work on so how could he possibly refuse? 

Working for the government undercover as spies, getting their noses in files and using morse codes to send it on back one way or another. It was all simple easy business at first but now they were starting to meet some of the more harsh fascist men around and as much as Alan had already been doing this for quite some time and had to adjust, Duke wasn’t finding it too easy standing back and watching minorities beat before him or the lingo thrown around, it was nothing like back home in England. 

“Well. After my quick meeting with the boss we’ll head out yeah?” He nodded shortly and they agreed quickly before the doors came jolting open again, looking straight ahead as if they knew not of each other in friendly manner and headed opposite ways just after to get their hands dirty in their work. One job disguised beneath another worked pretty well and if hadn’t have been for Duke speaking fluent and indistinguishable German he may’ve never landed in such a well off spot as it is, he could be under the streets laying in the metro with the rest of the poorer community.. 


	2. Step One

A linger of cigarette smoke left grey stale clouds of smoke in the airs of the office. Pairs of eyes watching him with a calculating squint as he headed quickly through the blocks and kept his eyes to the floor. Suspicions grew and Duke made his way swiftly on into the end office where the boss was waiting for him. 

“Here.” He pulled a document from his trenchcoat pocket and slapped it down on the desk, looking up with hard eyes and waiting for anything of apraisal or dismissal, it was either of the two with him. “Good work Jones.” The boss turned in his chair and snatched up the filework, flicking through it and reading loosely under his spectacles. 

Duke lowered his head with silent accomplishment, it was very hard to please the boss and he was counting on making it through today to escape this retched situation he’d found himself in being pushed around by the other German men. They knew was something up about him but didn’t directly say it, instead threatening him into working for them so he wouldn’t get a visit from the Gestapo. The Office worked directly with the political leaders themselves so it was easily arranged. 

Guns were firing outside in the merciless blizard but all the inhabitants and workers were used to it by now as none other than another march, violent and passionate with intent to kill apposing. Duke was the lucky one, maybe he was English but also blue eyed which made him favourable to many like an angel in their shadows. 

“Leave.” The Boss dismiss of him finally, handing Duke an extra ration booklet for all his help generously and he knew not to say another word and just get out of there as quickly as he could. Rations were low and some were desperate but others in favour of the soldiers got their rewards and usually in the coupons for more food. He stuffed the booklet in his pocket as quickly as he could as to no one else noticing or he’d probably get ambushed and roughed up for something so simple as the printed paper. 

\- 

Windows often shook, the floor rattling under their feet was nothing new and Duke quickly made his exit to the lift, meeting back up with his friend at the expected time. They waited until the doors shut again and no one was within earshot before they exchanged looks, “How did it go with grumpy?” Alan mused with a cynical look to expect the least. “Gave me some rations, here'ya” Duke tore half the coupons to share with his friend and he nodded thankfully. 

“We need to move. They’re on to us in here.” Duke mentioned with a shifty look, his eyes never pealed from the numbers of floors they descended as everything they did had to be tight and under the wraps in fear of discovery. Being caught red handed in the arms and home of the enemy themselves was not a good move and Duke had already heard rattling stories of the torture and punishment to expect for something as petty as speaking up to the boss let alone being caught a government spy. Without even needing to second guess it was a penalty with inevitable death and slowly. 

“Let’s.” Alan agreed, on the same page entirely being an outcast from the rest himself. To the Germans they looked like dirty boot lickers because they kept their heads down and got on with their jobs when really they were being all too cautious not to slip on a banana peel and have themselves killed, they worked together. Without Alan, Duke would’ve been in the shackles already so all he had to be was grateful in harsh times as such. 

“I’ll drive you back, grab your stuff and we’ll move to Nuremburg.” Alan spoke quickly before the doors opened and they were swiftly headed out again, showing their passes before they left in precautionary. 

Duke let out a great sigh of relief when they were back on the street and away from the building getting into Alan’s car for the ride back, giving him a victorious handshake but nothing more. They couldn’t so much as even smile at each other in public just to keep their reps down and hugging or anything more affectionate on a man to man basis was seen as homosexual explicit intent and punishable as defiance of law and order. Most of the marches were against gay, black and jewish particularly; every minority singled out and anything any less as pure German burned out of the rabbit holes they hid among. 

Keeping back emotional display and utterance was the least the pair could do to get anyone off their back. Alan drove slowly down the ice lathered roads, slipping and sliding every occasion and making Duke almost lose his frown and smile. “Slow down. Slow” He said suddenly, looking from the window and seeing an SS march headed down the same street, Alan had to pull along the side and wait patiently looking the complete other way the whole time. 

“Those bastards.” Duke swore, seeing a few minority in chains being dragged across the ground like pets, bloodied and bruised but there was nothing he could do but watch in defeat at how awfully backwards this country was. “Papers said this morning raids are due.” He mentioned when Alan started to drive again, swerving round another slippering car and hearing the news with a speechless reaction. 

“Blackout?” Alan asked, usually the motive and technique to drive bombings back was to turn out every source of light and make it tricky to designate locations from high above in a plane. “Yes.” 

They parked up outside Duke’s apartment building, nothing fancy nor was anything around. Snow covering them even when they stepped out for two minutes just to cross the street and enter his house. Most windows down every street were boarded up, holes in roads and pavements and a few big enough to say a bomb had landed. Even then blackboard signs handwritten in chalks were hung from shop doors entitled ‘Still in business’ but what a shame it was when the only good bookstore around was closed. Duke’s favourite but it was run and owned by a Jewish family and from what he could hope they’d gone into hiding before it was too late. The place had been torched and ransacked holding big book burnings on streets below his apartment. 

Nothing about this place was right and it’d never feel like home even if this catastrophe tantrum between the countries wasn’t sparking off. Duke was an open minded person and even more so than any petty man around him beating their chests like gorillas and claiming German blood proudly. 

They were barely through the door when Alan seized him by the collar and pressed him back into a wall, kicking the door shut and capturing Duke’s lips heatedly. “Mmph..” His muffled hum was of approval and he slowly replied until he was let up easy and dropped down to the floor again. 

“You don’t know how hard it is to hold back sometimes..” Alan chuckled breathlessly, running his hand down the fellow ‘friends’ cheek and stepping away slowly to follow through to the kitchen. They were open minded together and had to keep their secret flings to themselves completely although at first Alan had been less reluctant to go ahead and share it with the world, Duke wasn’t ready to die. 

“I do.. But you know we’ll have to stop seeing each other when I find my Emily.” He chanted, filling a dented saucepan with water and placing it on the stove to gently heat. “Yeah.” Alan sounded disappointed but he knew all along it was just for the relief of tension and wasn’t really going to go any much further between them than the occasional heat. 

“Do you think you will?” Alan didn’t sound to hopeful and more reluctant of Duke’s high horse of a mission. “Someday. Whatever it takes.” He sighed, taking out the little picture from his watch and looking at it with a depression of sorts he held back until he was out of public eye. A wall literally built inbetween their love but Duke hadn’t given up and he just had to hope and cross his fingers Emily would too.. 


	3. C'mon Friend..

Vandalism was known by the wall finely diving Berlin in two, west and east were evenly apart but also cut the sides apart and left families and relationships apart. People had tried to break through, climb it and tunnel below but were shot on sight for even trying. Most called it no mans land, the inbetween of west and east, there was a small gap in the middle of about 50 yards where soldiers were now stationed to keep the pieces apart. Supposedly it kept France from their leader if anything came to it like a plan b. 

Duke stared gloomily at the photo and kissed it, folding it back up and hiding it carefully in the little well converted space; he hid ration coupons and other bits of useful scrap paper and no one would suspect it. Alan felt guilty and sorry for his friend, running a comforting hand over the fellow’s back and turning his attention back to the pan when the water began to audibly bubble and hiss. “How many sugar’s?” Alan asked him quietly, preparing the drinks for them both and let the man have his moment. 

“Three.” He mumbled with his head hung low, stressed in thought and frowning to himself here and there. “Do you reckon..” He began, going to sit at the sofa just in the next room with Alan, cupping the mug in his hands and relaxing back with his feet up on the coffee table. “That I could parachute from one side of Berlin to the other?” 

“Don’t be silly. That’s a reckless and obsurd idea man unless you really do want to get yourself killed.” Alan chuckled thinking he was joking about the plotting going on his mind right now. “Wouldn’t mind it if it got me out of this shithole.” Duke shrugged, going to light a cigarette and offering Alan another generously. 

“No. There’s other ways than that.. I mean once you get there, where would you begin? Do you know where she lives now, how long has it been?” Alan raised good points and he nodded slowly still in thought and dazed out in his own little world for a moment. “I did.. But I don’t know whether that’s still the case.” He sighed and went silent, puffing away on his cigarette and not paying any attention to anything else until he felt Alan’s hand rest against his thigh and run a suggestive thumb over it. 

“I’m not in the mood..” Duke looked at him with sad puppy eyes and then back down at the floor, tapping his foot as if impatiently. Alan nodded as was appreciative of him needing some space right now but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed and empathetic towards his friends looks. He could see it in his eyes, it told him that the girl was worth throwing everything away just to see her one last time at least. For Duke it wasn’t about the sex or anything else incorporated in their romance but just her, he’d fallen head over heels the first time they met eyes and that didn’t just happen with someone as up tight as him.. He never thought it would have happened either. Love makes you do stupid things. That couldn’t be more true to him as a quote right now than any other. 

“What d'you say we go down to that bar you like huh? Grab a drink maybe some bump?” Alan suggested, the best thing to do was distract and occupy him before the thoughts consumed him entirely. “Yea whatever.” Duke shrugged, getting a bit down in the dumps just filling his mind with memories of her with how dormant they’d become. 

They both finished their drinks and cigarettes and Duke got up to put on a warmer coat and his hat and gloves one by one, peering from a crack in the curtains to see whether the weather had calmed but it’d just accelerated since their arrival. Typical German customs of weather, extreme snow was normal around here at this time of year, especially up in snowy Berlin further from the equator and less common to heatwaves than further down in the southern part of Germany. 

Alan waited for Duke for a while and ended up holding his hand and pulling him along, not forcefully but he could tell his friend’s motivation and spirits had gone down considerably this morning from the very moment he was there on his doorstep. Times were rough as it is but having an extra burden of broken relationship to think about didn’t help Duke out at all, he could hardly do anything else when he was feeling glum and absorbed in his own problems. 

Often he piled alcohol and drugs on top of it, helped him feel normal enough to step out into the street again. Deciding against driving for the safety hazards and simple fact that everytime they went out together they tended to be quite troublesome and get each other hammered it was best to walk the ten minutes down the long strip of terrace houses and shops and get to the bar. 

Duke and Alan plodded along in the snow together, not holding hands anymore but walking side by side with their heads down to avoid the vicious snowflakes getting in their eyes. His trenchcoat was quickly covered anyway, head to toe in white rather than the sleek black he’d picked out this morning. There were rallies still raving on up and down streets nearby, wavering their bright red flags and chanting the same explicit lines of ‘Fuhrer’ over and over, distantly reaching the two of them treading carefully. Most houses already had their lights out by now, the dawn just cracking and afternoon was due already, icicles hanging from windowsills and everything about Jack Frost about to chill them as they walked and wandered over each outstretched brick building. Some were boarded others were open and operational, flats above each shop and one of which Duke lived in but the shop below was abandoned. 

A lot of the houses were deserted and useless around, lot’s couldn’t pay rents or afford this area and many had to sell belongings and properties for rations nowadays, the saddening truth that brought Duke back into more of his spiralling depressive habits but not enough so to deter him from his missions completely. 

“Shit!” Duke yelled as he slipped on some ice suddenly, making Alan and another two males stood just outside the bar chuckle with no one even checking to make sure he was okay. After a moment of laying helplessly in the snow, he got up slowly and dusted himself off now sporting a wet backside and tufts of snowy hair. They entered the bar and Alan finally apologised for laughing and clasped a hand to his friend’s shoulder when they were settled down upon stools ready to order. 

“Gin for myself and wine for m'lady.” Duke joked as he gestured to Alan, finding wine such a femine drink for him to have but then again he was quite the femine type secretly. “Oi!” He nudged him almost off his barstool and the bartender smiled and went off to make their drinks.. 


	4. Man of Mystery

The Bars atmosphere wasn’t much different from that of the office but once Duke and Alan had a few units in them they’d fit in anyway. Mostly drunken officers and soldiers were scattered around, whores in lap and sporting bottle after bottle along their tables. Cigarette smoke and ash lingered, a distinct smell of cologne, smoke and alcohol as any bar. Various tables along the back with the higher ranks, closed off from the public and anyone stupid enough to just walk up to their tables didn’t leave the bar in anything but a bodybag. Illegal poker games and prostitution was going around but the two took no note to it as with time it basically became the norm around these ends. 

The waitress strutted back over to the two, placing their drinks down in front of them and wandering off to serve another customer. They both took their glass and clinked in cheers before drinking, Alan took a long sip and Duke downed his gin ready to order another. “Think they have a bump?” Alan asked quietly to him, his eyes pointing at a table over in a darker more prohibited corner where a few shady officers and civillians sat together looking shifty and suspicious. 

“Hmm..” Duke didn’t wait to reply and saw them exchange money and bags straight out on the table. Drugs were promoted and pubicly used but not all that easy to get hold off as the officers and far superiors usually abused their roles power and got their grasps on all of it or controlled who got what. Since Duke was a regular though it wouldn’t be much of a problem for him to grab up a fix plain and simple. He slipped off his stool and rummaged through his pocket, stopping the leaving dealers in their tracks and holding out some money. They smiled and nodded, pulling out another bag and tossing into his cupped hands before he turned in his heels and walked off after paying them.  
No one thought anything of deals happening and only officers would be a hurting factor in buying. 

One of the Superiors noticed the little transaction and kept his eye on Duke when he sat back at the stool and began to cut up his fix. “Easy. Alan don’t you have your own by now.” He asked with a coy smile, making it look like a piece of cake from a far when either the dealers or officers could’ve pulled out a gun on him easily. “Nah..” He sighed, looking more sheepishly over his shoulder knowing the deal and seeing the watching officer he looked straight back and turned his head quickly to avoid giving the officer a reason to detain or hold anything against them. They seemed to have a problem with just anyone getting hands on their products so it was risky business. 

The two weren’t in too deeply but did like to mix their drinks with a little something to get them going like a bump or two. Alan took a quarter and cut his own as did Duke and ordered a few shots to liven up the intake. “To success.” He smiled and they toasted again with the little glasses, this routine had become quite regular to clear their buzzing minds each passing evening; something to keep the dreadful reality of everyone’s situation here was much needed. Both of them knocked down the shots and then continued to take the lines, Alan started to cough and chuckle to himself as it always hit him quite hard with an intense rush the mixture gave. 

Duke handled his drink well and kept cool and levelheaded afterwards, being surprised by the waitress suddenly leaning over with a coy smile and placing a drink in front of him. She looked him up and down with a flutter of her lashes and lick of her lips and wandered off again not explaining why there was another larger glass of gin in front of him or why she’d started to look at him funny. He didn’t recognise flirting all that much as his mind was too occupied on his current love and enthuse with another woman, he wanted to be as loyal to her as he could be and Alan already made it difficult enough. 

Soldiers came rushing into the bar as rush hour hit, work was finish and most came to unwind with drinks, poker and cheap girls. They came marching up to the bar, pulling civillians and lower ranks away from their seats and using their silly authority to occupy the stools. Duke and Alan shook their heads and he almost swore at a soldier when his shoulder was grasped, swinging round in chair with a stern and warning look and showed his ID, “Move along grunts.” He ordered, turning his back to them again as they scurried off nervously after almost pulling a government official off his bar stool. Duke could easily get them ran for it, stripped of ranks or a nice visit from the gestapo, he had his fingers round many puppets with all the work he had done. 

The officer in the corner kept his eye on the Duke, nursing the same drink most of the afternoon so far and looking more interested in the man than anything happening at his table. Eventually he pushed the girl off his lap with disinterest and got up, approaching the bar and pulling a soldier from the stool the opposite side of Duke to sit next to him an observe closer, but it didn’t miss Duke’s attention when the soldier was pulled and looked round at the bizarre officer briefly before returning to his drink and conversation. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” The officer crudely interrupted and Duke looked back round at him, Alan looked over confusedly as to why he was so interested. 

“Duke.” He held out his hand politely, knowing not to cross an officer’s bad side and go along with it protest free. “Dr. Richtofen.” He exchanged, a doctor? What would he want with a simpleton political nobody like him. “You say you’re from West Berlin?” Dr. Richtofen spoke curiously, ordering another drink for all three of them very generously to their cheers. “Yes.. once.” Duke sounded somber and retreated somewhat in that question as it brought up the memory. 

“You want to go back?” The doctor probed on, questioning him in a manner that made him as curious as suspicious. “Yes.” He nodded on, sipping slugishly at his drink now and feeling the lump at the back of his throat grow. Duke always avoided the topic but he couldn’t deny the information to an officer asking really. 

Suddenly the raid alarm sounded and everyone dropped what they were doing, panic raised and procedures were in place. The barmaid and other workers started to turn off all the lights and everyone filed out of the bar one by one. Duke and Alan got up together and left as calmly as they could, the whirring of the alarm sounding wasn’t lost on them and not new. Two raids had already taken place in their time and it was becoming increasingly a risk now the raids were happening between the enemy countries. 

Normality of it was a warning two minutes before danger struck to turn off all lights and form of electricity and current and hide from view, under tables, in closets or if you were smart and close enough, in the underground metro. Duke and Alan rushed along in a crowd of drunken men, packed in and pushed around like sardines until they reached the metro and quickly huddled underneath. Everywhere was pitch black, complete silence apart from the odd utter of a soldier and the clattering footsteps of many urgent people cramming into a sweaty unhygienic environment and probably for the night until the air raid alarms completely stopped sounding. 

Duke lost his sight on the doctor he’d been intriguingly talking to but it didn’t worry him too much because he barely knew the guy and it was simple chit chat to him. If the officer wanted someone they’d get them there one way or another by simple command or letter. Now they’d exchanged names it wouldn’t be tricky to find him anyhow.. well his codename. Keeping their english accents under the radar and falsifying great German ones took a lot of practice and skill but they were only picked because they were best at what they did.. 


	5. Metro

“Slow down. Stop shoving into me will'ya!” Duke scrambled along trying to keep up with Alan without having to hold his hand. Lights flickering down and starting to dim around them, he looked back as they started on the steps and saw bobbing heads and lights going out one by one. This place gave him the shivers, the compact atmosphere made him feel nauseous and claustrophobic but it wasn’t going to be uncommon with the current affairs of nations. 

Power was short and candles were dotted around but further down the crammed metro. Families, couples, elderly and homeless were already huddled down here but just as the sirens sounded they must’ve had that gut feeling and fear of knowing they’d be bombarded with ignorant, power thirsty soldiers any minute after. Some of the crazier people stayed in their homes and just hoped for the best but most nearby an underground dwelling scrambled for the nearest enterance and hoped. Sirens gave civillians and others five minutes to get in and get down, plus the power off which was already scarce considering the recent hit on the power stations. 

Just like that, one click of fingers and one button pressed and the streets went from dwindling with shoppers and locals to empty. From packed with the noises of busy workers, chopping of wood, purr of car engines to complete eery silence. Deserted streets of Germany; some stupid enough stayed out and broke into shops, broke into rationing stations but most were caught out by brave SS men patrolling and that didn’t end well. Duke and Alan kept their heads down and themselves to themselves. Getting caught in the act and then ratted out as spies was a guaranteed death sentence and a slow one at that, they couldn’t afford to step out of line. 

Everyone continued, pushing and shoving happening to quicken the protocol but it was uncalled for and from rowdy drunk soldiers and officers that looked down their noses at the unranked or ‘useless’ civillians. Duke clutched his hat to his chest and found everything around him hard to concentrate on, droning on down the stairs until they were in the tunnels, echoes of voices and many tears shed. Most settled down wherever there was a spare square of space on the floor but it was packed like a puzzle and a lot of people were stepped on or had to sleep huddled up to another. But here specifically there was a metro car that’d lost power and was abandonned but it looked like few had attempted to enter it because soldiers usually did and Duke and Alan followed through and got into the car, settling in comfier chairs before others did, not that they couldn’t use their ID as a power card. 

Everything here was different. And he tried to get used to it, grow fluid to it’s surroundings and become one with Berlin life, german life. But it just wasn’t his cup of tea, especially having to pretend to brandish fists, be all violent and nationalist for Germany when his heart lied elsewhere. And despite being a spy, his only mission was to find Emily and save her from the claws of the Nazis before it was too late. She was Austrian but blonde with blue eyes so basically an angel walking among the streets, it wasn’t what attracted Duke in the first place but it attracted brainwashed Nazi soldiers and polictical diehards. 

Alan settled down next to Duke and the ground began to shake above them, a booming sound of an explosion nearby which rattled everyone’s nerves around. Rocks and dust falling from the ceiling and people around shielding from it, a few landed on top of the train cars and everyone went silent for quite some time after listening out for more. There was so much fear and hopelessness surrounding being in this metro, crying children barely old enough to walk that could just have their lives taken for the greed of power that the man in charge had. It disgusted Duke to the point of wanting to vomit, he was laidback and naturally peaceful a man and wasn’t prepared for all this as the treaty of versailles aka the only thing keeping Churchill and Hitler from scratching one another’s eyeballs out was ripped weeks after he arrived and after that it kicked off, not enough time for him to escape before everything was closed off like a fortress of solitude. 

“So much for rations..” Alan sighed, holding his hands to his stomach as it growled. 

“How do you have an appetite around this..” Duke sighed, lighting up a smoke and Alan pulled out his own this time and lit up with matches, striking each one and taking a couple of attempts before he waved it out and puffed away. “We’ll die if we don’t eat, we’ll die either way.. Keeping my body strong enough to run when it comes to that, because it will.” They spoke in code language around the other germans and substituted words for others like they’d been taught, but both understood one another perfectly fine. “I see.” 

“When d'you reckon we’ll be able to leave?” Duke mumbled, drawing in on his cigarette strongly and smoking it down quickly to then light another. Stressing out quite, he went through packs and packs around here it was becoming a really bad habit but little did people of these times know it was extremely unhealthy. It was promoted, little kids were seen around also smoking, ages of three already puffing away on a death stick. Cigarette machines on the corner of each street were more convienient and local than a shop. 

A soldier sat down grumpily on the other side of Duke, head in hands not joining the rest in chants and laughing joking anthem shouting drunkeness. He noticed it but dismissed of it quickly. “Duke?” The man asked, looking up and then he realised the face, the rank slides on his shoulders and shape of his hat different from the others and frowned. “Dr.?” He tilted his head and Alan looked on as he was ignored suddenly. 

“Listen..” The doctor began, but it was different.. Duke knew what it meant but it was a codeword not normal terms. “You’re not german are you.” The doctor said quietly, nudging him and looking up. Alan and Duke both hesitated and he took it as a no and shook his head, taking off his hat and letting his hair out. “Well. You’re doing a good job concealing it but.. I know an englishman when I see one.” He chuckled nervously, Duke offered him a light when he got a cigarette out of his rations pouch and he took the offer thankfully. 

“Oh..” They both said at the same time, he was English too? After all that. The doctor got friendly with them sharing ‘typical’ english conversation but of course in German for the rupture of being discovered. A child was across from them, squirming in it’s mothers arms and muffled screams came from its mouth when the soldiers looked his way. The mother tried her hardest but the soldiers seemed to like terrorizing children and it was just his luck, it’d happened before but the kid was scared shitless. “Mummy’s boy!” They chanted, their mental age was around two and their educational value non existent. Army men were good for nothing else around here usually, rare odd one or two that weren’t in it to be the big man and ‘brave’ in quotation marks… 


	6. Meet The Doctor

The doctor and Alan started to chat when Duke zoned out and looked between the boy and the soldiers. It brought back regretful memories of his childhood, it was similar to him as he was a mute as a child. He never spoke for the plain reason that he either didn’t want to or had nothing to say to the brainless brutes around him. Soldiers in the camp he had to live in with his Father at points pushed him around and tried to get him to make noise but he never gave in, they could mash him to a pulp and all that would happen was a change of expression. 

Everything happened so fast after that. One minute a soldier was in the childs face the next he was on the floor clutching at his nose and squirming under Duke’s foot trapping his leg. “Pick on someone your own size.” He spoke calmly, tilting his head waiting for an answer and crushing the soldiers leg harder. The others around were watching in silent horror and his friends had gotten up and moved down the cart. Alan and the doctor were shocked. Alan particularly because he’d never saw Duke do such a thing but he did it in such a manner that brought more power and intimidation than he’d ever felt from the quiet fellow. “Okay.. okay please” He put his hands up and Duke let go, returning to his seat calmly and watching the soldier limp away with dull eyes. 

“Are you okay buddy.” Alan asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder and clicking his fingers in front of Duke’s face to get his attention. “Yeah. I hate bullies is all.” He said through gritted teeth and the boy was now watching him with wide eyes but he wasn’t crying anymore or giving the mother or anyone else’s ears grief, fascinated by the ginger haired man sat across from him. 

The alarms faded and suddenly went off and it’d only been an hour so Duke and Alan frowned and the doctor clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Already?” Alan asked, “Suppose so.” The doctor shrugged and they got up and quickly rushed to the door before others started to follow them, some curious people were wandering up the stairs slowly too but most were still rooted in place confused. 

“Come with us.” Duke told the doctor quietly, inquistive to know more about this apparently English stranger. With time he’d learnt to look beyond the cover and read between the lines, deducing anything off about a person. Part of his spy role was to iron out all those creases about himself and become one with the locals, he was slowly advancing in the political structure but it looked about time for him to go military even if it was against everything he believed in it was the only way.  
He’d been thinking and it figured that only those personnel were allowed to cross or protect the ‘wall’ and if he could camouflage with them then he had a chance at making it; he was taking Alan with him and why not this new English friend they were tagging with. 

The three slowly crept up the stairs and checked for the all clear, it couldn’t have been a drill because of the explosions but maybe it was warning shots today and not a full on parade of to them, friendly planes dropping by. The option to leave was none so working for their side in working with key information was all they could handle to hope for a rescue mission at some point but Germany was making more enemies in the way of Stalin falling out with Hitler recently. Russia was more than on it’s way and that meant terrible bloodshed was on the horizon. 

Outside the lights weren’t back on but the raid alarm was off, people were scattering out in small groups together and soldiers were following on from the rest appearing to do their job at crowd control now the officers were about pointing fingers. All officers were seen a intimidating figures and they had more authority, law abiding citizens more like. 

Alan took Duke’s hand and pulled him to the side down an alley with the doctor, it was a shortcut to Duke’s house only a block away and within no time they were outside his door. Cars were upturned and soldiers were back out marching, swinging their guns and chanting, officers ordering and repeating the left right normality of marches to keep them all in check. They all went inside and locked the door with the chain and anything else secure, if not they risked looters coming inside as they were known by many around here. Always armed and dangerous, criminals that had nothing else left and were ready to chuck the law aside and risk life for theirs back. 

“Nice place. Paid for?” The doctor smiled, quietly speaking and checking out the well furnished but compact apartment. “Yeah, suckers do anything for ‘well provided’ info about our lot.” Duke looked smug, he didn’t pay a dime for it as the government had his back there. As long as he kept handing over silly information that didn’t actually get them anywhere he got an apartment and assured rations and protection plus an in date indentification to avoid the forceful officers knocking at his door accusing and cussing; an untouchable status like a halo over his head. 

“Who were you sent by?” Alan directed at the Doctor, he’d specifically been sent with Duke so it was a mystery to be solved for them both to start with. “Churchill himself. Funny story actually..” Richtofen sat down and took off his hat, becoming more informal and now in the comfort of Duke’s home they reverted to English. “Well I happened to be with my missus having dinner and she’s German originally. Because I’d been studying German closely and met her here years before, we spoke it together a lot. Churchill was sat in the booth behind us having a meeting and he heard my impeccable German and took me in for probation as if I were some sorta spy for Germany right. Turns out it’s just that convincing and then he offered the job and I was just made redundant so I couldn’t refuse. Got here, made my way up the ranks and now I’m here.” He explained looking amused, it was quite a story and made Duke and Alan smile. “You met the man himself. Damn that must’ve been funny huh.” 

“Yeah right.” He nodded with a chuckle. 

“Work with us. Me and Alan are trying to get access to the military soon.” They both started but Alan ended up explaining and then they gave him pointed looks. “Hmm. Yeah alright.” The doctor agreed after a thoughtful look, shaking Duke’s hand. It wasn’t usual that they’d give this info away, even explain their situation but something about Dr.Richtofen came off as trustworthy and they blinded agreed still under the influence themselves anyway being chatty and negiotable… 


	7. Rations

A knock came at the door and their heads turned towards it but no one shifted for it. “I should really get going. I shouldn’t be seen talking to you two.” Richtofen spoke quickly, flattening his hair with his palm and placing his hat back on. He put out his cigarette and got up to answer the door for them. 

“You know where to find us.” Duke gestured and he nodded quickly, wandering over to the door. Richtofen looked through the spyglass and took the bolt off, opening the door to one of his soldiers stood there cap in hand waiting nervously. “Hello. I uh- we’re being called in for evening service now.” The soldier shifted and Richtofen nodded his head once when the soldier saluted him and they followed down the road. 

Duke got up and resecured the door, for obvious reasons it had a chain and bolt along with the regular lock. Alan rested back on the sofa and looked about ready to pass out anyhow. “Not even going to stay awake for dinner huh?” Duke sighed, sitting beside his friend and watching him fall asleep. He pulled the sleeping man’s boots off and let him relax properly, getting up himself and getting ready to go and pick up his evening rations. 

Just like that; everything went back to normal. Or as normal as these days could provide. People gathered back into their homes, the metro was still packed with the homeless and fearful. Infested with all sorts of disease and infections, it wasn’t the most ideal of times but with the raids and extensive damage people were out of homes and jobs and it got worse every night when another bombing was staged. Berlin was hit quite hard considering it was where the government building was located and also the leader a lot of the time but he knew better than to stay in Berlin each night. Everyone lived in fear of who was next to be smacked in the face by reality and lose everything but what could they do? 

Enemy forces or the French and English were fighting them in all elements, blockading ports and roads to flee the country. Trades stopped with the tattered relations Germany now had to many countries and they had to live by on little resources. It was the same on the other side of the spectrum for everyone at war, England rationing because all of the men were out fighting rather than working farms and other what was concluded in these days as ‘manly’ jobs that women weren’t allowed to really be doing. It wasn’t until the war started that women were even allowed to work but it was still frowned upon. 

\- 

Stepping outside of his house, people were shuffling down the streets obviously heading to do the same as Duke. He walked swiftly and kept his head down, storm clouds covering the skies now explained why the planes had retreated and when he looked up at the sky all he could see was grey, it was about to snow. Winter here was usually quite beautiful, or to him at least. Dead trees glistened in frost and snow, icicles sitting wherever they could fit, a blanket of white covering the city. Maybe it was rather depressing but it was one of the only things he appreciated about this place. Britain was never good for snow even if it did rain a tonne, it always melted before anyone had chance to admire it. That and salt was just heaped ontop of it. As if it’d actually help when it really just made the pathways gritty and dirty looking, slush was more cringeworthy to trudge through than the snow itself. 

But Duke was careful where he stepped, there was still ice from the last trenchfall of snow and he could never tell when it was going to be the dreaded black ice which was deceivingly slippy. Embarrassing enough falling down onto his arse in front of everyone, so he avoided it and stepped on concrete where he could. 

The store giving out rations was only round the corner so it was a short enough walk and Duke had good timing to get there before most now piling up behind him in a street long queue which would just continue to stretch. Opening up his watch before he got there, he pulled out his ration book and had plenty of coupons for what he wanted and made a little something extra. 

“Coffee too.” He added on the end of his fairly long order and the owners placed it all in a big bag for him, looking at him like he was crazy at first because people couldn’t usually afford or were allowed that much. Duke only used half of his coupons there and had more left for luxuries if he needed them as they were handed out each day for foods if you were lucky and could afford it. “Sure you didn’t steal these?” The man asked, raising his eyebrows and he shook his head, remaining calm and walking off with his bag to allow the next customers through. Getting out of the doorway was quite a challenge, but he was a skinny guy so slipping through a small gap in people flooding in was easy and he was soon back on the streets returning to his apartment. 

Sure enough the heavens opened and snow started to fall thick and fast. Lucky enough Duke was wearing his flatcap and jacket and paced back to his apartment. Getting the keys out with shakey cold hands, he got inside safely and locked back up behind himself, placing his groceries on the kitchen table and going into the bedroom to change into some warmer clothes and put his wet clothes aside. 

Duke grabbed a clean towel and dried himself off properly, glad the heating was good and insulation here was even better so the warmth stayed in. Just as he went to dry off the ends of his hair, Alan walked in and grabbed his from behind. “Do you mind me staying the night?” He asked quietly, kissing at Duke’s neck 

“You know I don’t.” Duke whispered back, sighing softly at the kissing and leaning back into Alan. 

“I’m about to make dinner.. can you wait.” Duke shivered, pulling away from Alan and grabbing his boxers. “Suppose.” Alan pouted, walking back out to see what Duke had picked up from today’s ration handout… 


	8. Flaws

Duke dried off his hair with the towel properly, pulling on his boxers and a fresh pair of pajamas. He fussed over his hair with a comb and didn’t leave the bedroom until it was all flat and not a single strand of hair stuck up from his parting. 

“You should’ve told me you were going out to get rations.. I need mine!” Alan told him as he strolled into the kitchen finally, going through his bag and placing all the items out on the table. 

“I got some for both of us.. you can repay me when you like.” Duke arranged two piles and showed Alan by pointing to a smaller yet generous pile of foods and some of Alan’s favourite hard boiled sweets were there. 

“Now. I’m going to cook.” Duke said sternly and Alan knew what that meant, taking the bag and placing his stuff inside he left swiftly. Duke couldn’t work while distracted in anyway, his short attention span was terrible and Alan knew the drill when he said so. 

\- 

“Attention!” Richtofen came to attention in front of a large group of soldiers and they followed his lead. The doctor inclined to the right and saluted the leader as he marched up to him. 

“At ease.” The leader mumbled softly, coming to a stop in front of the officer and nodding at the soldiers as they stopped saluting and went at ease themselves, watching intently. 

“So it seems we have a few bad sheep in this pack.” The leader began, taking his speech in front of thousands of them all lined up in the courtyard of their barracks. Visits every other day and ocassionally once a week were expected and they had to be in top shape and be prepared for quick sharp line up like this. Richtofen was a higher rank than any of the men and the other officers were out at other barracks and following other orders so tonight it was his turn to take professional lead. It’d happened before and he was ready for it when it happened, yet his louder orders were more difficult to control accent wise and he was quite nervous when the leader entered. 

The soldiers started to look at one another with confused frowns and Hitler clicked his fingers to gain their attention again. “An anonymous source told me this was the place to look. So now we will perform searches and interviews. Dismiss them.” The leader turned on his heels, a short speech but he wasn’t messing around and looked pretty pissed with the news that there was a possible security breach. Spies and such that would suffer a whole world of pain under his hand if he found them. Taking safety precautions, he turned to his lined up SS men and made one gesture of his hands and they marched off to search every single room. 

Richtofen had only been witness of a search once but this was different and a lot more vigorous. The SS were thorough but also reckless and messy about it, breaking belongings and not worrying about trashing the place in search of any evidence. 

The sqaud stood at attention for a whole of thirty minutes before the search crew and the leader came marching back out. Richtofen was trying not to visibly shake. A picture of his ‘English’ family among all things could be classed as evidence enough if they found it, or looked at it the right way and saw the flag in the background. It was a reckless photo he kept which could cost him his life but it was the only one he had of them and he wasn’t willing to let go. 

The leader looked twice as furious and marched right up to the officer, getting in his face and intimidating him with his fiery eyes. “You.” He poked his chest and Richtofen gulped to prepare for the worst. “Find me an infiltrator by tommorow.” He snarled, kicking dust and pacing off with his men on tag behind him as they left the courtyard and entered cars waiting for them. 

“Dismissed.” Richtofen wobbled his words and inclined before leaving swiftly and letting the soldiers do what they will. Most looked pretty amused and unbothered about this search, some newbies look a little shaken but overall it was good nothing was found or it’d be Richtofen’s head off as well as whomever responsible. Everyone feared Hitler’s gestapo, a visit from them only happened once.. 

\- 

“It’s ready” Duke called, stirring at a stew he’d chucked together with whatever he had. Managing to get his hands on some chicken and vegetables was a miracle as it is. Most dinners consisted of oats and rice but he got there early enough today and knew how to work his charms on anyone to get what he wanted. 

“Smells wonderful.” Alan smiled, now in the doorway leaning against the frame. 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Duke sighed, it was difficult to fix anything with flavour but he had a way in the kitchen many Alan had met didn’t have. 

Alan avoided getting under Duke’s feet and sat down at the dining table, clearing the stuff from the way and making space for his bowl being placed down in front of him and shortly after a spoon. “You got chicken? How the f-” 

“I have my ways you know.” He smiled at Alan’s surprise and seated himself at the table with another bowl, tucking into his hot stew quite quickly. “Lucky.. That tight bugger wouldn’t even give me a bean if I sucked his cock.” Alan grumbled, humming however at the taste of the stew. 

“Mm. It is good actually, thankyou.” Alan added in compliment. 

“Maybe you ain’t very good at it ey’” Duke teased, managing to smile a little now he was being playful. It was rare he smiled genuinely and only ever falsely towards others to be friendly. 

“Oh yeah? Is that a challenge? I’ve never heard you complain.” Alan sassed, raising his eyebrows and pouting at Duke. He made sure he was watching when he suckled on his spoon for a bit longer. 

“Yeah it is. I’m polite.” Duke challenged back with narrowed eyes and everything fell silent as they gave each other narrow looks and teased each other in many ways until dinner was finished. 

Duke experimented with both genders in his lifetime but truthfully he was very much straight at heart. Alan brought out the homosexual in him with the way they played around each other like a battleground. Duke could easily go out each night and pick up a whore off the corner and Alan knew it.. he however couldn’t so Duke had one up on him when it came to teasing. 

It was promiscuous and took a lot of convincing but he helped his friend out and maintained a cheeky fling with him whilst it lasted. The prospect of being homosexual was very dangerous in this country particularly exterminating any form of ‘foreign’ or ‘minority’ as a such. 

\- 

“What’re you going to do; Who knows if there even is an imposter here sir. It could just be paranoid information.. false!” A soldier was stood at Richtofen’s desk, one of the only ones that really got on with the doctor enough for him to tolerate. Basically the only one here that seemed human enough to socialise with. The rest were immature and ignorant, having completely different beliefs and morality from Richtofen. 

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know.” He stressed, head in hands at his desk. “He’ll have my head if I don’t get results I just.. I can’t think of anything.” 

“You’ve done everything you can surely?” The soldier asked, worried for the friendly officer’s wellbeing over such a tactless request which without being friendly with the other men was difficult to acquire such inside information on possible outsiders. All he could think right now was himself being this imposter, everyone else was clean. 

“I’ve spoke to every single damn soldier in this campus. Nothing!” Richtofen pounded his desk with his fist. The threat wasn’t weak either, once the leader said it he meant it and would go through with it even if someone else provided him with evidence to convict another; Richtofen would still be in deep waters. 

Evil thoughts of betrayal crossed his mind. He gulped everytime he thought about it but he barely knew those men.. what would it hurt to save his own skin for once. Either he face the torture or them; he’d already made his mind up who he’d rather. 

\- 

Duke rinsed out the saucepan and scrubbed down the excess dirt before placing it aside to dry and rubbing his hands in a towel. Alan followed him out of the kitchen expectantly, walking closely behind him as they filed into the bedroom. 

“Ah.. not so rough.” Duke growled under his breath as he was pressed into the nearest wall, pinned down by Alan and struggling against his grip. “Let go.” He ordered sternly but there was a giggle and he felt the other mans body press against his and keep him there. 

“Are my services not up to your standards?” Alan inquired darkly, holding him there until he’d answer. “Let go now.” Duke growled again refusing and pushing back from being pinned. He tackled Alan down onto the bed, attacking his neck which he knew was the man’s weak spot to stop him from trying that manueuvre again. 

“Mm.. stop.. avoiding my question.” Alan groaned softly, grasping at Duke’s hair and pulling his face away from his neck to face him instead. “I don’t need to answer that to please your ego do I?” Duke teased, squirming as Alan tackled him down now instead. 

Duke didn’t ever let anyone top him; not Alan, not anyone. So these little tricks Alan was pulling to gain power were nothing because he wouldn’t let him get what he wanted without a fair fight back. 

“Yeah. You do.” Alan challenged back, pinning the man down again and holding him down no matter how much he squirmed. Truthfully Alan was the stronger one and heavier, Duke was just a twig in comparison and stood little chance unless he caught him by surprise. 

Duke glared at him and said nothing so Alan’s hands tugged at his pajama bottoms and made him squirm more. “Well.. I’ll just have to prove you otherwise then..” 


	9. Domination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never wrote homo-sex before, hope it's up to everyone's standards eek >.

Duke fell down against the pillows, on top of the multiple sheets for padding as Alan pounced down with him and pinned him to the bed strongly. “Alannn” He growled, snapping his teeth at him in warning. Alan just smirked ever so mischievously and grabbed a belt from the side table, “Oh how convienient.” He hummed in sing song making Duke squirm more and more. 

“You better not!” He raised his tone, growling at him agressively. Alan knew full well Duke never let anyone top him, nobody. “You asked for it babe.” He chuckled, grabbing both of Duke’s wrists. 

Duke kicked his legs at Alan’s thighs trying to push him off with all his might, to no avail, Alan was just too much stronger and heavier for him to fight back successfully. “Don’t. You. Dare.” He rasped, going at him with his teeth now. “I’ll bite.” He whined, “Don’t!” Alan held his wrists together and strapped the belt over them, tieing him up firmly and tightly. “Noooo..” 

“Yes.” Alan giggled, “Stop kicking me.” He smiled, feeling so powerful and courageous against the Duke for once.. All this time, all the humiliation and degrading acts were over. Alan had one up on his right now and he was going to do everything in his might to keep it that way. 

“ _Uhhhh.. Noo.. God no_..” Duke groaned as Alan attacked his neck to distract him from the kicking while he tied a double knot to prevent the slippery guy from becoming houdini on him again. Last time Alan had paid for his ‘sins’ hard and Duke had surprise attacked him mid sex.. Not again. 

Once the tie was tight enough and double knotted he moved back and straddled over him, undoing Duke’s pyjama top slowly. “Undo me now and I’ll forgive you.” He breathed desperately with a pleading tone, trying to strike a false deal with Alan to trick him into it. 

Duke was the smarter less gullible of the two so it’d make sense to play his cards in that direction but Alan just laughed and continued to strip him down until they were both bare. 

“You started this.” Alan shrugged, starting to press hot kisses all over his collar bone and down over his heaving chest. He took each nipple into his mouth and suckled, making Duke groan loud and writhe against the bed. Alan knew it was one of his weak spots, he targeted each one individually. 

“Stop kicking me or I’ll tie your feet too.” Alan warned as Duke started to kick his legs again and wiggled his hands and fingers trying to break free. He almost stretched his slender fingers round enough to the knot but it was well done and difficult. 

“ _Huhh.. Damn._ ” Alan pinpointed his sensitive stomach and kissed all over it, edging very close to his erection. “So ready for me babe. I think you like this.” He teased, running his hand down to trace his fingers over Duke’s shaft which twitched to his touch. “I- _Mm_.. don’t.” 

“Oh yeah.” Alan purred, running his tongue over his belly button and straight down to his twitching cock, running it up the shaft and suckling on his tip. Duke bit down on his tongue, trying to muffle his desperate groans but it was no use and after seconds of the suckling he moaned femininely and his eyes rolled, head tilting back into the pillows and hands clenching into fists. 

“That’s what I thought.” Alan muffled against his tip, starting to take him down further and only having half of him in his mouth before he started to gag and pull back up, bobbing his head up and down. “ _Alann.. ohhh.. fuckk_ ” 

“Mmmm..” Alan hummed, taking down more of him and liking the way he shuddered and moaned louder everytime, letting the sounds fill his ears. Luckily Duke didn’t have close neighbours, most terrace houses around here were too expensive and many were forced onto the streets, into the metro and out of their homes. Soldiers inhabitted the others usually, soldiers and wealthier authority figures that could just about pay for it. England paid for Duke and Alan’s housing, not that the Germans knew that. 

Alan reached his fingers down to squeeze at Duke’s balls, finding a bigger reaction from that alone. Duke’s back arched and he cried out, squirming against Alan as he took him down into his throat and felt spurts of release greet him. 

“ _Nooo.. oh god.._ ” Duke tried everything to resist, to hold out and not give Alan the pleasure of making him squirm but his body couldn’t hold on any longer… 

“Delicious.” Alan pulled away and licked his lips drizzled in the aftermath, lapping up the mess still twitching from the tip and around his mouth. 

“My turn.” Alan grinned, licking his lips still and flipping Duke over easily onto his front. Duke panted from the after effect of his release still, his eyes going wide and mouth opening as Alan flipped him over, knowing exactly what was going down. 

“N-no.. please.. I can’t.. pleaseee! I’m sorry.. you give the best head I’ve ever had! Please!” Duke begged, he tried hard to convince Alan but he was already rumagging through Duke’s bedside draw and got out the lube and a condom. “Thankyou very much.. I don’t think Emily would be happy about you saying that though.” Alan sniggered cheekily, making Duke blush and press his face into the pillow sheepishly. 

“Don’t even go there.” Duke growled against the pillow, reacting to him mentioning her quickly. 

Alan climbed back onto the bed and straddled Duke again, squeezing his hands against his well proportioned ass. “Ah..” Duke squirmed, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. 

Alan ripped open the condom and rolled it over his length, making sure it was on properly and there was an air bubble before he opened up the lube and poured a generous amount over it and between Duke’s cheeks. “Brr.. cold.” Duke shivered, giggling to himself this time. 

Alan ran his hand over his cock and collected the liquid on his fingers, parting the man’s cheeks again and thrusting his fingers in one by one to loosen him up. “ _Mmm.._ ” Duke purred, grasping at the sheets and whining on softly. 

“You like that huh?” Alan asked with a smirk, slapping his ass once before he got into position. Duke said nothing, going crimson again and burying his face in the pillows. 

Alan guided himself with his hand, slowly and methodically pushing in and being gentle with Duke. He had no clue whether the man had ever stooped down to take somebody before but he couldn’t imagine so, not with the way he held himself so dominantly. 

“ _Ahhh.. nngh.. ohhh_ ” Duke growled in pleasure, relaxing himself as much as he could and clenching a little more when Alan went a bit too fast for him. Soon he’d fit the whole way and began to rock his hips slowly, holding his hands against Duke’s hips. 

“You’re soooo-oooh.. gonna pay for thisss..” Duke moaned, panting heavily as he thrust harder and started to go at a more rhythmic pace. Alan groaned and smirked to himself the whole time, as smug as can be that he’d finally got Duke down in bed and wasn’t the one being submissive. 

Alan reached down and stroked at Duke’s member to make him more vocal, noticing his restraint and clenching growing as a sign. Alan found his spot and started to hit against it repeatedly, gasping and groaning the more Duke clenched and tried to resist. “ _Alannn.. oh alannn.. baby.._ ” He moaned and thrust back against him harder, demanding more force and getting it as Alan started to slam harder and harder, growing faster. 

Suddenly Alan pressed his chest against Duke’s back and groaned loudly against his shoulder, grasping Duke’s hair and slowing down as he released. He firmly stroked at Duke’s cock until he gave in too, slipping out of him and collapsing weakly next to him. 

Silence, except harsh breathing and Duke rolling over in his own time on the bed, “Untie me.. please..” Duke panted softly, about ready to pass out anyway. Alan took Duke’s wrists and untied him swiftly, throwing the belt aside and gasping as Duke rolled on top of him and heatedly kissed him, making him groan in surprise and grasp at Duke’s hair fiercely. 

“Did you enjoy that.” Duke asked quietly, as he pulled away and looked into the man’s eyes, running his fingers down his jaw gently and laying against him. “Mm, It was a nice change.” 

“Don’t get used to it.” Duke flashed him with his teeth and budged him to get under the covers. They curled up against one another and fell asleep quickly, dazed and relaxed.. 


	10. Morning of Mistrust

Horns and stomping outside roused Duke from his light slumber. Waking up slowly and yawning softly as he stretched out his arms and legs, a few cracks of bones made him sigh with relief. Alan was still snoring peacefully, curled up at his side almost resting on his pillow. He smiled down at the sleeping man and patted around on the bedside table for his cigarettes, the room was still dark enough for it to be a struggle considering how early it still was. As ever he was awake just before the sunrise, taking great pleasure out of watching it each morning. Something he did when he was back at home in England, before all of this erupting commotion even showed it’s face. 

He found them after a few pats, grabbing his glasses too as if that’d help with the darker lighting of the room. He carefully and gently eased out of the bed, replacing the covers over Alan fully when he was done and tucking him in like a child. At least he was an obnoxious riser that liked to smash just about every breakable thing in the house, slam every door and make all their movements just that little bit more amplified than even necessary. What’s all the racket about, he wondered to himself with a peculiar frown, feeling almost irritated by it waking him from such a relaxing dream. About his Emily, going from heaven to hell in just seconds because of obnoxious soldiers? 

Duke walked over to the window and peeked through the curtains, seeing plenty soldiers in a massive formation marching and chanting down the streets. Oh yes, it’s Saturday. He sighed to himself and shook his head before placing his items down two minutes to pull on some boxers at least. Every Saturday was practice for the hollow headed brainwashed men to march, shout and practice their performance for the Fuhrer; the King in English and was what they referred Hitler as when their previous Fuhrer fled the county right in the middle of WW1. 

He pulled up his pants and took his cigarettes and the handy lighter and wandered back over to the window, opening it as quietly as he could before leaning against the window sill and lighting up his first death stick of the day. He watched over the what must’ve been hundreds of men marching around his block.. Always his damn block. Convienience came over anything and because all soldiers liked to inhabit these pricey terrace areas they were located to, it would just make sense to meet up and practice around it too. And with Duke being of higher authority too, he was located in the same spot. 

“Fuhrer huh. How amusing.” He muttered to himself bitterly, in the comfort of his own home he took the liberty of muttering out all the things he had to hold in when he was around the scum of Germany. If he didn’t take the time to do so he was afraid he’d explode at some point. Every day was another depressing day in Berlin. The delusion of waking up left him convince he was in England again for about five seconds before he snapped out of it and scowled to himself, every single morning was the same. How could he be happy about waking up to violence, fascism and complete and utter madness kicking off in the streets, in the workplaces and everywhere he went like it was normal. To these people it was, a lot of them were straight out happy, supporters of kicking the life out of the poor minorities. Burning the holy books of the hated jewish and watching them cower before it hugging the ashes. It was flat out wrong but the other thing just bizarre and restricting was the censorship, nobody was free to their own opinion with the Fuhrer about because if it wasn’t him giving speeches on his strict regime it was die hard nazis enforcing it and taking the ‘law’ into their own hands. Completely and utterly ridiculous.. People were running around like headless chickens. 

Duke inhaled deeply and blew out just as slowly, calming himself down for the day ahead as it was much needed. The patience and balance he had to have for this job was almost humanly impossible to give most of the time. And with what’d happened with his job now, he was going to be busy today with his scheduled visit to the Reich to shake hands with Goebbels himself; Or in other words the Propaganda overlord of the time. 

“Duke..” Alan’s sleepy whine came from behind him and he looked over his shoulder at the man moving as slow as a sloth still half asleep. 

“Yes, I’m over here.” He answered quietly, finishing his cigarette but remaining in the window as he watched over the horizon to catch the sun starting to show it’s face. 

“Come back to bed.” Alan mumbled lazily, in a croaky morning tone. 

“Not yet.” Duke replied simply, keen to have his morning rituals forfilled before he even thought about doing anything else. Alan understood and lolled back down onto the pillow, starting to snore within a minute. That made Duke smile, he knew full well Alan wasn’t the morning person he was. It made him wonder how he coped with this job of government spy or in the company of gullible Germans, personal doves that were like inter-diplomats to important figures; on the side gatherers of useful information, passing round dirty secrets about other people for more rations. How could it bother them much if one less scum would be on the streets causing uproar with their terrible views just for trading much needed food for the gossip. Duke especially dug it, he thought of it as doing Germany a favor, the only favor they’d ever be getting out of him is one for a brighter, war free and equal future. 

Duke started to hum and soon broke out into a soft hymn that reminded him of his mother. He couldn’t help but always feel a stone in his stomach with the homesick urges, he really hated being in this city in the middle of danger and not knowing when it would strike. 

\- 

“Dr.Richtofen, what a pleasure to meet you sir I’ve heard all about you.” He sat down in front of the doctor and took his flat cap off, brushing out his messy brown hair and leaning against the desk. 

“Good Morning to you too, James.” Richtofen mumbled, bags under his eyes from and head drooping slightly from an obvious lack of sleep. He’d been up all night thinking about what happened between himself and the Fuhrer himself. How was he supposed to bring somebody in when everyone was innocent, or there was no evidence proving so. 

“What can I do you for?” James asked with a frown now, noticing the sleep lacking Doctor and tilting his head. “You don’t look too good, what’s happened?” 

“Fuhrer. He came to the barracks last night, ordered me to find an intruder along my men. There were none.. But he still expects a guilty felone.” Richtofen explained, sounding bored of thinking about it by now. It was weighing down on his mind too much, he couldn’t go on and it was causing him to stay awake with stress. It was his head or someone else’s. 

“What’s going to happen if you don’t bring somebody, when’re they due?” James asked lowly, growing concerned of the officer. They were good friends, partners in crime more like. James wasn’t German at all, he barely spoke it too. But he’d managed to survive on what he knew and pretending he was mute when he didn’t understand or couldn’t muster a strong enough accent. 

“He wants my head, he’s suspected me for a while now I can tell. If I don’t have someone by this evening.. he’s going to send me to dungeons.” He sighed, a stressed hand wavering through his hair. 

“The gestapo ah, that’s not good. They’ll not just kill ya they’ll make sure they enjoy themselves first.. I’ve heard a lot about them.” James squirmed, the thought of being found out scared him every day. The whole government was really cracking down on ‘migrants and minority’ and being English that wouldn’t help the situation at all. One of their enemies, he’d be in for hell for sure. But so would his friend, he needed to help. 

“So. You want me to find someone huh?” James asked after a moment of silence between them, Richtofen’s tired gaze off in the distance as he tended to daydream often when so sleep deprived. James just worrying about the sentence for being non-german under such a fascist ruler. 

“Yes. I know someone already. You can’t tell them it was me, bring both of them to the barracks. I need to talk to them. Make sure you blindfold them. They can’t know anything.” Richtofen spoke shiftly now, he was saving his own back is all, they’d understand surely. He took out a piece of paper and dipped his quill in ink, writing down the address, names and everything James aka his handyworker needed to know before sending him off to do his duty. He paid him before he’d even began, which was new to James but he knew that must mean it was either dangerous and risky or extremely important and that it was done to full hearted, paid effort. 

\- 

In the shower alone; Duke washed through his auburn hair vigorously, letting the soap run from it as he tilted his head under the pouring water. Then he lathered up his body part for part gently and stood underneath the shower head to let the water run over him and wash it all off slowly. Singing in the shower was his biggest habit, soon Alan woke up again to the sound of soft, talented singing and the shower water running in the next room. 

He sat up in the bed but made no attempt to move, waiting with his eyes on the door lazily for Duke to run out, looking innocently for a nice view first thing waking up. 

The sun had risen entirely and Duke had opened the curtains to let the light drown the room so Alan would wake up soon enough anyway. Soon enough Duke stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel loosely round his dripping waist, shaking out his sopping hair and drying it up first with a separate towel before he came padding blindly out of the bathroom. He could tell Alan was awake but couldn’t entirely see him until he’d snatched his glasses off the bedside table and placed them on. “Morning.” Duke spoke in sing song, getting out another cig and lighting it as he plopped down on the bed still damp. 

“Hello” Alan mumbled, scratching at his stubbled chin and yawning, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

“Pass us a ciggy mate.” Alan asked, nudging him slightly when he lit up. He reached over and offered the box out to Alan before resuming to smoke his cigarette. Really he needed to cut down on the smoking but he enjoyed it, especially in the mornings. Sometimes it helped him relax and sometimes he did it just out of addictive habit. Nicotine and smoking was promoted as a really good thing, a really cool thing anyway. He only needed to cut down because he couldn’t afford to smoke the sixty something cigarettes he went through a day, not to mention Alan bumming them every two minutes too. 

“Where’s yours.” Duke frowned, taking the box back and lighting the stick for him. 

“At home, I’m not as organised as you..” Alan sighed, truthfully he was much more forgetful and disorganised than the clean freak Duke was. His home looked like it was for show most of the time whereas Alan’s was barely standable to him, it was so messy and all over the place; which is exactly why they always met at Duke’s house. Alan enjoyed the cleanlier atmosphere but always made the excuse at home that he didn’t have the time or energy to clean it up, excuses excuses. 

“You’re a really good singer.” Alan mentioned with a small smile, making Duke blush and turn his head away. 

“You heard me ey’.. well my mother always sang so. I guess it’s just what I’m used to.” Duke mumbled quickly, staring out of the window feeling slightly embarassed.  
“If only we could’ve stayed at home and followed our actual dream ey’” Duke continued, he dreamt always of doing something creative. Something less risky and more secure than a spy.. It wasn’t really for him but he was unfortunately, good at it and spoke fluent German; that was all the pitch he needed for the job he had. 

“Damn right.” Alan felt bitter about leaving home too, everyday he woke in this run down war infested shithole known as Berlin. There was nothing to look forward to, maybe a drink down the pub to remind them of home and what was culture. Watching the football and having a pint was a very English tradition for after work.  
Duke wasn’t even a massive fan of football but now he was away from it all he did yearn to watch some and get his old life back, it wasn’t perfect but it was better than this. Constantly on edge, hardly sleeping without someone else next to him.. He couldn’t work tired, spy’s had to be mentally strong at all times as to not slip up words or absent mindedly speak English instead. It had happened to Duke once already but he spoke German so much it was in that accent and he made an easy sly excuse to say he’d been learning it in hope of becoming a spy and going to England; how ironic would that be! If he wanted to escape that’d be the easy way to do so, they couldn’t reach him from Germany if he went back to his home and stayed. 

“You hungry?” Duke asked, dried and starting to pull on some clothes one by one. He wore similar outfits everyday, white shirt black trouser, worked for him. 

“Yeah, what’re you making?” Alan asked, still laying in bed hands behind his head. He was much more manly looking than Duke, much bigger but not overweight; Duke was just underweight, he pulled off the adrogynous almost gender fluid role well at times even if he didn’t mean to. He was hairless apart from on top of his head and smooth shaven at all times, skinny and pale. 

“Hmm..” Duke wandered out fully clothed and didn’t answer Alan’s question just yet, going to have a look what there actually was to make first… 


	11. Alan?

Duke searched every cupboard eagerly and managed to scrape together enough ingredients for some more stew. Times were tough, even the more ‘priveledged’ members of society were struggling. But he was happy as long as he had at least _one_ decent meal on the table each day, what more could he ask for from a limited time as such? 

“You make cornflour and vegetables taste like heaven, don’t stress.” Alan comforted him from behind, being all touchy feely affectionate with Duke this morning after last night. He always was afterwards, Duke never understood it. Especially still feeling quite riled up about how it’d happened. 

“I suggest. You and your filthy hands back away before I bite them.” He settled calmly, giving him a glare of suggestion. He showed his stubborn side to just get passed that, no one took advantage of him like that without regretting every second of it. No one even got to do that to him.. ever. 

“Oh c'mon. Don’t be like this, you _enjoyyedd_ it.” Alan purred, nuzzling his face against the Duke’s neck and making him growl, Alan backed away then and left him to it. 

“Alright, alright. Be like that.” He shrugged, he was in for some sort of serious punishment he knew it. Either way it’d end up being pleasing, Duke couldn’t resist a bare presented ass if blindfolded let alone to give ‘punishment’ of sorts. 

“You made it this way. Nobody takes me.” Duke grumbled, feeling sore and stiff this morning because of it. A few bites left on his collarbone that he’d have to either cover up or make a story with a woman about. Homosexuality was sin in Nazi Germany, he couldn’t stand it. 

More marches kicking off outside, like every other shitty morning spent in brainwashed Berlin. He felt a little aggressive this morning with all the factors put together so it was best that Alan went and took his seat at the table there and then. He was on low tolerance, and he was hungry. 

“Drink?” Duke asked stiffly, hobbling to grab the saucepan. He’d make himself coffee, that oughta help someway. He loved his coffee after all. 

“I’d murder a brew. Any tea left?” Alan asked back, at least managing to be civil with him now he had the idea of definite punishment in his mind. They still had two hours before worktime thanks to Duke’s excessively early rising. Just enough time for some serious damage to go down. 

“Yeah.” Duke shuddered, he hated that stuff. Devil’s creation, not that he had any direction for religious beliefs but.. Devil’s drink. Coffee was with his heart, he couldn’t survive a day without coffee in his system. Or he really would get grumpy. 

He lit up the stove and started to boil the water next to the brewing stock, slicing up vegetables and adding them to the bigger pot, he added in more stock and some seasonings before he went to make the drinks. Putting a teabag in Alan’s cup and coffee in his own, he passed Alan the sugarcubes and poured the boiling water into his cup and Alan’s passing him the cup and getting on with the stew silently. 

His mind was plotting already, Alan could tell by that stone cold look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to just forgive this, even if he did enjoy himself in the process. It wasn’t the way he rolled, he wouldn’t let anyone get that legience over him no matter the cause behind it. 

“Here.” Duke put down a bowl in front of Alan filled with stew a few minutes later, serving up his own and sitting down at the table with his coffee. He also passed him a fork and then went to down his heavenly beverage in one, piping hot just the way he liked it. The burn was something he’d learned to enjoy more, the taste would always be his favourite. 

“Spare me.” Alan whined finally, putting his hands up in surrender and looking Duke’s way innocently. He never looked so pathetic and amusing in his life, Duke just laughed in his face and shook his head with a bite of his lips and raise of his brows. 

“Oh fuck.” Alan knew that look and just kept his head down and went straight back to eating his stew up, groaning and humming at the taste. Such a wonderful cook he was, considering he didn’t eat much of it to begin with. Small appetite, to match his petite frame. He was skeleton like, yet so many men around them were intimidated by him. Funny world. 

“That bad huh.” Alan mumbled, finishing up his stew. He just couldn’t keep his mouth shut, maybe there was a lesson or two to that for him. Duke started to plot more in silence, just glaring more and finishing his stew at the same time. He got up and took the dishes, dumping them in the sink for later. Not something he usually did, Alan noticed and gulped, standing up too. 

Duke turned around with a wicked smile and ground his teeth at him, coming up sternly and grasping his arm, he pulled him along back to the bedroom for a taste of his own medicine… 

\- 

“Number.. Fourty Aha.” James muttered under his breath, stowing away his little scrawled piece of paper and pulling out his silence hand pistol, along with a bobby pin. He bent it until it was straight, looking around and over his shoulder making sure there was no one around before he bent down and started to carefully pick the lock. It wasn’t hard and the door handle twisted and he very quietly crept into the apartment. 

There were lights on, they were in. He looked around quietly, creeping up and looking into the kitchen, he ducked inside and saw the used saucepans to confirm his suspicion before he ducked into the next room. The lounge was empty but he could hear something peculiar sounding coming from the bedroom. He slowly turned the handle and slipped inside, shutting it silently and gasping in sudden shock at what he saw, nevertheless he held up his pistol as one of the men turned around and suddenly glared. 

“What are you doing in my apartment, get the fuck out!” Duke shouted viciously, pulling from the panting whining Alan and grabbing his pistol from under his bed. 

“Don’t even think about it son. Put it down.” James growled, threatening with a waver of the gun, he clicked it off the safety catch and Duke laughed. 

“You wouldn’t. I work for the government I can get you arrested right now if I chose.” Duke laughed, getting up and walking closer to the shrouded man. Suddenly there was a loud sound of a gunshot and Duke fell to the floor, panting and wincing and screaming in pain, clutching at his knee. 

“Shoot out your caps, take you along. This can all go smoothly, just come with me.” James growled, not messing around as he turned his pistol towards Alan who had jumped up from the bed at the sound and took the dropped pistol into his own hands. 

“Back off! GET OUT!” Alan said fiercely, cocking the gun and drawing it towards the man. Another gunshot sounded and Alan dropped to the ground too, coughing and wheezing, writhing in pain. 

“Noooooooo!” Duke crawled over and wrestled the man to the ground, trying hard to take the gun out of the man’s hands quickly. Two more shots, they went through the ceiling in the struggle and James kicked Duke in the chest so hard he fell onto his back and was winded, bleeding out from his leg slowly. He crawled towards Alan instead, clutching his leg in one hand, chest in the other. 

“Alan.. Alan.. Please..” Duke rolled his coughing friend over, his eyes going wide at the big pool of blood on the floor where he laid and all over his chest already, he’d been hit in the lung. He could still survive but time was running out. 

James came over aggresively and grabbed Duke by the hair, whipping out handcuffs first. He grasped the weakened man’s wrist and clicked them on quickly, then blindfolded him and left him there on the floor squirming and screaming out for help and for Alan. 

“Du..” Alan struggled his breaths, little streaks of blood drooling from the corners of his mouth as his eyes rolled in pain. He compressed his wounded chest with the nearest shirt, it happened to be Duke’s plain white clean shirt but what could he do. James leant over him and handcuffed the man too, blindfolding him the same and then starting to grasp clothes to put on them. 

“Don’t struggle or I shoot again.” James drawled, grabbing up a shirt and standing Duke up, to his pain again. He shoved a shirt over his shoulders and buttoned it up half way, then grabbing a pair of trousers and pulling them on him quickly. 

“Fuck-y-you..” Alan spat, almost falling unconcious with the sustained injury causing him so much pain. 

James scrambled over to Alan and hauled him onto the bed suddenly, making him wince and try to struggle more. James slapped him roughly and ended up knocking him out with another punch. He pulled a shirt on the other man and a pair of trousers, making them look presentable enough and then he dragged Duke onto the bed too and placed them both there. Duke was quiet now apart from the whines and winces, panting softly on the bed still clutching his now clothed leg. “Boss only said one alive anyway. I could leave your pet here to die, homosexual scum.” James spat in Duke’s face, even though he blindfolded. 

“Now we wait for this sack of shit to wake up and you come along nicely yeah? Or he dies.” James bargained with Duke and he nodded quickly, he didn’t want to resist this violent desperate man from his job. Whatever it took to keep Alan alive..


	12. Close Call..

“You know he’ll kick the shit out of you.” James smacked Duke for using his cheek and he laughed through it, kicking the man back from him and squirming around trying to feel at the blankets through his cuffed hands. He was obliged to refrain from inching out even a word about his mission here. James already knew from Richtofen that they were English and when he snuck into their room they’d been speaking the language together. 

But now Duke was back to German, he kept a German accent on when he mumbled things in English to wind up James. He knew English but didn’t tell him as he smacked him for swearing and being rude in front of his face. “I know English you fool.” James spat. 

Alan suddenly coughed back into action and tried to roll from the bed and James grabbed him up and made him stand. “You’re going to carry your friend now.” James spat, grabbing up Duke and making him stand on his broken knee, he winced in pain and growled at the invisible figure. 

Alan felt around and James guided Duke to lean against his friend, making them follow him along by prodding their backs with his gun. A police officer knocked on the door and shouted in rapid German and James panicked and stopped them in their tracks. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound.” He grumbled, walking round the hobbling pair and making it for the door, he tucked his pistol into his back pocket and went for the door, answering it with a peculiar frown of surprise. 

“Hello, what can I do for you?” James asked politely and the now three police officers tried to push past him, spotting the blood on his hands and pinning him to a wall. 

“Gunshots reported, robber reported.” The officer took out his cuffs and strapped them to James’ wrists quickly. “Help!” Came Duke’s voice, Alan had collapsed again, with Duke toppling down after him and trying to bite his blindfold off. 

The two other officers ran into the bedroom, guns in hand. They spotted the two injured men together on the floor tied up and grabbed them up, one officer to each, taking them along out of the room. They didn’t remove the blindfolds or cuffs.. 

“Found them, let’s go.” The officers dragged the two along to their van and chucked them in the back with James, wrapping it up quickly and shutting the apartment door, they were off. 

\- 

“What’s going on!!” James squirmed, Duke was asking the same question and Alan was still out of it. All in all the three of them were now in trouble, being trapped in the back of a smelly police van. Dark and strong in urine smell, it wasn’t looking good for them. 

The van stopped ten minutes later, they had no clue where they were and Duke couldn’t see anything from the covered cloth over his eyes and wrapped simultaneous times. He was helpless and down on two senses, touch and sight. Alan started to wheeze and cough again, his head spinning. His chest was covered and wrapped tightly in a police jacket to compress the wound from oozing, keeping him barely conscious and on the very verge of death, if he bled out anymore. 

“Du-” Alan almost spun out, he’d lost a lot of blood and didn’t even try to move from his uncomfortable position on the cold reinforced metal floor of the van. The stench got to him and made him cough more, Duke covered his mouth over with his cologne scented sleeve as much as he could. James was just panicking and rocking in the corner, looking at the two blind men trying to navigate each other helplessly with little sounds to one another. 

The front doors opened and Duke found Alan, laying right beside him and listening to Alan speak weakly. “What’s.. happening.” James felt guilt suddenly hit him, in the same position as two men he’d shot. Oh what trouble was he about to get into. The officers tapped the back van doors and shouted in rapid German, “Step back, step back! Or we shoot!” They warned, wrenching open the doors and yanking James out first. He gasped and surrendered, being dragged off by two officers as more arrived. 

Then they dragged Alan out next, Duke tried to stay lightly clung to him with his body but they kicked him back and a sharp pain ran through him, being winded again. Two more officers dragged Alan down with James and then it was Duke’s turn. Four firm hands grabbed him, two on each side on each shoulder and dragged him along quickly, his feet catching along the ground as they went inside to an eery sounding room or hallway? His senses were deceiving him, he needed sight and sound to confirm. 

There were echoes of screams, shouting and the clunks of it he wasn’t mistaken metal bars, shaking and panic filled his ears. He just let them drag him, suddenly being dropped hard on his front onto a sticky dirty concrete floor, a fluffy feeling tickled his forehead and then someone ripped the blindfold from his head with a knife, taking a lock of his hair with it carelessly. They left the cuffs on and a slam behind him of a heavy metal door went and he looked around in disorientation. The fluff was in fact a rat, staring at his big bold eyes sitting an inch from his face waggling it’s tail trying to nibble his hair. He shook it off and it scampered off into the dark corner. 

“Alan.” Duke asked and his friend groaned in confirmation, Duke stayed on his back, his leg was still throbbing and unable to lift so he turned his head and looked around until he saw Alan laying there on his front too beside him. James wasn’t there which was a relief because he was about ready to beat the guy to death. 

“Where are we..” He swallowed a lump in his throat and looked around. All the light coming into the room was from a grate with metal bars on the far back wall about four inches wide and two inches tall. The cell like room reeked even worse than the van, dead rat and feces. There was a few dried up rats scattered around, one looked like it’d been torn to pieces. A pair of chains lined one wall and there was a simple wooden bench but it’d been broken somewhere along the line, they didn’t fix it. 

They both laid there still and exhausted by the process, confused and questioning everything about this. Duke worried because it matched all the rumors that laced the offices about the Gestapo. 

\- 

Hours passed and Duke had huddled up to Alan for warmth in the below freezing room, their teeth chattering and bodies seizing up to the cold. More screams echoed through room to room, they could both hear James shouting and screaming and then a thud every ocassion. The stupid bastard was probably trying to break the wall with his head or something, that’s the first impression they got about him; thick as the bricks lacing the cells walls. 

The locking mechanisms of the metal door keeping them enclosed clicked and the door swung open, a pair of faint clicking boots came towards them but they were too out of it to really react anymore. An army officer leaned over them and tapped their heads. “Wakie wakie.” Duke looked up faintly and recognised the overshadowed face, “Richto-tofen..” He whispered in his weaker voice, a pool of blood was left where his broken knee was laying as the doctor gently pulled Duke to his feet and Alan was passed out again away. 

“What’re you- why are you here? Where am I?” Duke had so many questions, he spoke in German still but Richtofen spoke in English now unafraid of the consequences. 

“C'mon mate, I’ll explain soon.” The officer holstered Duke’s arm around his shoulder and then he whistled once and another two uniformed men came in and grabbed up Alan, carrying him out behind limping Duke and the officer. 

James started to shout vile words and kick at the metal door, two police officers nearby rushed over and swung the door open, he was testing their patience. They swung the door open and ran in, all that could be heard was one scream of pain from him and then silence as loud smacks of batons came from the room. Duke looked back with a pained expression, hearing the man shout something out in English, a name? 

It sounded fluent and nowhere near put on, was James an englishman too? Now was not the time he understood so he kept his head down and kept quiet. Maggots riddled his soaked clothes now, he smelled just as bad as the environment he’d been laying in, rats bites scattered over his body. He was just thankful to see the officer now. 

They walked down numerous halls past cells with screaming and probably insane captures, then past open barred cells where men were curled into balls shaking or praying. It was a heart breaking sight but what could they do now, the police officers stood guard. 

Each hall was slightly different and soon they were stopped at the exit by four guards speaking fast and angry in German. “Who sent you?” They shouted, another started, “Who’s in charge of you, these are our prisoners.” 

Richtofen sighed and rummaged through his pocket with his free hand, pulling out first his army ID card and then putting his cap on and standing at attention waiting for them to do the same. “Oh.. we beg your pardon Officer Richtofen.” 

“Fuhrer sent me. He wants these ‘prisoners’ for himself.” He ordered them to move and they saluted him and moved aside, bowing their heads as the total five men all moved along to a car waiting for them outside. A driver in the front tipped his hat and opened the door for them, Richtofen helped Duke in first and then the two men slotted Alan in followed by the doctor himself. The driver shut the door and got in the front, starting the engine and driving off from the sanctuary. 

“So. You have some questions.” Richtofen shifted, taking his cap off and looking at Duke. 

“Yes.. What just happened.” He spoke weakly, he was filthy from head to toe now, and that was his bug bear considering he was such a clean healthy man. 

“I’m sorry this happened, it was the only way..” He stopped himself and then decided to explain first before his apology, expecting a punch of some sorts. 

“We’re not going to the Fuhrer. Your coming to stay with me. It’s not safe at your apartment. They’re raiding houses down there now.” Richtofen told him with a frown. 

“Two days ago. Hitler turned up at our barracks. He ordered a traitor be thrown in for treachery and treason. Or it was my head. James, my snitch. I threw him in there but first I needed to get you in there too. So no one suspected I was working with James on this. I’m going to have to hide you. There’s an alert on spies going around, they suspect everyone and I don’t want you to go through anymore. I’m sorry, this was the only way..” The officer explained, bowing his head but Duke hugged him suddenly and made him startle but he accepted it. Englishmen weren’t as much homophobic scum as these Germans, it was a strange concept spoken out against but it was a simple friendly gesture in England to hug whereas in Germany it was seen as crime. Strict regime and manipulatively censored order, dictatorship at it’s worst. 

“Thankyou.. for getting us out of there.” He sighed, pulling back when it started to feel too much. Duke sighed and felt thankful for his life right now, Richtofen’s hand came to his knee and started to inspect it. “You need immediate medical treatment. I have a personal nurse at my home. I’ll get you sorted.” The government paid for officers to have a much more luxury life than in such a tight needy time would seem right. Foods and luxuries all they wanted, the Fuhrer’s personal favourites the jealous men liked to call them. Richtofen was one of them, especially now he’d played the sleuth and found the leader the first traitor. Little did he know there was a few right under his nose. 

The driver turned a corner into a private gated community, it looked much more built up and expensive than where he was housed. Officers roamed the streets and the doctor made Duke and Alan duck down suddenly to not rouse suspicions. No one under their rank was allowed to step foot here, they’d have to be tactical and well maintained. “You don’t have any evidence laying around at your house do you?” 

“No. Only one picture of home, but it’s unrecognisable and inside my locket. I doubt they’ll notice it if they check my home.” Duke shook his head, the locket had a picture of his family. He fiddled with his watch and opened up the face, showing Richtofen. “What’s that?” 

“My handy compartment. I keep everything here right under their noses but on me at all times.” Duke remarked feeling proud of his contraptions. Under the mechanism the little compartment lay. He pulled out folded up ration coupons, a picture of home, of Emily. Some English stamps just in case, anything incriminating hid there. 

“Can you do that with my watch?” Richtofen asked with an impressed smile, checking it out and showing Duke his similar sized watch. 

“Not this one, too bulky. Get me another of these ones and I’ll do it.” He bargained, there was a certain type that could be used handily for storage…


	13. Home

"Same make?" Richtofen pondered, watching from the window as they rounded the corner to his house. A row of house down the street were owned by those favoured by the Fuhrer himself. Including Richtofen, a prize officer to the King. Duke was in good hands if it came to luxury and protection, Alan was in good hands when it came to recovering. Richtofen was prepped with the best medical advisor around, he could patch him up.. hopefully in time. Alan wasn't in good shape, pale and passed out in the seat still. 

"Yep." Duke mumbled quietly, they were conversing in their own language as to not let the driver involve himself too much in their conversations. But his driver was sworn to confidentiality and loyal to Richtofen as it is. He spoke partial English but not enough to understand them, his hello to Duke was an amusing thing to hear. The attempt he made to make it sound English. 

"Get down." Richtofen told him suddenly, there were officers stood around his house's door waiting around with rifles in hand. They looked serious and his front door was wide open. Richtofen ducked Duke down and Duke pulled Alan's unconscious body down with him so Richtofen appeared to be the only male in the car. 

"Only let me out." Richtofen told the driver in German and he nodded, he was just as keen to help them out because he wasn't too sure about the regimes going on around Germany, he was more of a peaceful man and he didn't agree with the war. It was rare to see in a German but that was probably why Richtofen favoured him, he wouldn't sneak off to get vengeance in the name of the law because he didn't agree with the law in the first place.

The car came rolling to a stop outside Richtofen's sizable house. It was bigger than Duke and Alan's apartments by miles. And much more luxurious. But what could they expect in this capitalist uneven society Hitler ran now, officer's were treated like royalty. The driver got out and helped Richtofen out, standing by the car side patiently and not saying anything to the officers. They wouldn't mention anything if the driver stayed, Duke and Alan were still inside but they wouldn't know that was the reason why he was sticking around. 

The snow had stopped for what felt the first time in weeks, but it was still almost knee deep. Richtofen waddled over to the officers, paths had been dug out enough on the pavements outside so he stepped onto flatter turf and faced the officers. They were a lower rank than Richtofen so they had to salute him too. "What's going on here?" He demanded, a fierce look on him. 

"Sorry sir. Fuhrer ordered a search of every house in the residence. He suspects everyone." The officers spoke with ashamed looks, they didn't know anything about Richtofen's guilt but they protected him to an extent. "Should be done any minute now." One of the officers told him, waiting patiently with his rifle nestled in his hands in a rested position.

"This is ridiculous! Why would he suspect us, we're his top men." Richtofen chewed on about it, furious that they would search his house because; there could potentially be discriminating evidence in there. He thought he was safe so it hadn't crossed him to hide it all too well, inside his pillow cases was English money and letters from his family he'd had imported by boat and given directly to himself. It'd been a very tricky process to get one message back and forth but he had the power in Germany and back at home to make it happen without an suspicion about him. All in secret.

"Nothing." Two more men came out, soldiers holstered with Glocks. The two officers nodded silently and look at Richtofen with a shake of their heads towards the door, "All yours. I trust our men wouldn't have uh- roughed the place up too, much." They spoke sarcastically, turning their noses up and walking off to 'investigate' the next house. What were they really up to, that couldn't be the whole truth. But then again, they did have every right to envy and maybe even despise him. He was treated with even more luxury than them both. A decorated, kitted out house with central heating and lighting and all sorts of 'unaffordable expenses'.

Richtofen waited for them to round the corner patiently, tapping his foot and looking around his environment just to make sure no unwanted attention was peeking or lurking about. Anyone saw what he was up to, even sniffed a suspicious air about him, they'd be on his case and he wouldn't get out without something incriminating coming back. Whether it was planted or framed, or his hidden stash of photos and such that proved quite quickly he wasn't of German descent. Maybe not enough to charge him with foul intention but enough to demote him and what to say if they found Duke and Alan hiding out. Then it'd get them thrown into whatever gutter the Gestapo had waiting for them. Their seats were probably already etched with their names and lined waiting, he got that sense with how much the leader was cracking down on the law now. Being of any other nationality than 'Pure' German as they liked to refer to it as, was even a crime in a sense, enough again to get him demoted and possibly roughed up, or even tortured for deceit. Oh the irony. Such a law set by an Austrian man leading a German country, a German army, claiming nothing but German was to be accepted. But the manipulation of these weak minds stuck, outsiders were outsiders for a reason and killed for exactly the same; they were the only ones strong and moral enough to see past the dictatorship, living and breathing democracy their lifetime.

"Out." The Doctor spoke shortly, eyes shifting still to their surroundings as Duke shuffled out from his ducked position and went straight into the house without another question. 

"Assistance please, Albrecht." Richtofen muttered, starting to shift Alan too. Still unconscious and bleeding through the shirt wrapped and acting as a compression around his chest wound. Keeping his blood from pouring out like water but not forever. Albrecht and Richtofen carried Alan inside quickly and the doctor bid his quick farewell to his driver before shutting the door and locking it tight with the bolts and chains secured before he turned to face Duke. He'd casually lit up a cigarette, leg holstered up against a chair in the fancy living room of the house. It looked far too spacious and luxurious for one man but. Who was he to question a man that's risked everything to save his right now. Besides. The chairs were the comfiest he'd ever come across.

"Franz!" Richtofen called impatiently, laying Alan down properly on his sofa. The stains were the least of his concern right now. The life of a fellow englishman was his greatest worry. Duke needed his wound looked at immediately too. 

The medic by the name Franz, came hobbling in with a bag of medical goods swung over his shoulder already. Richtofen was known by Franz by now, to come home after fights or sneak in innocent people, homeless people, people that needed his services. He was a good samaritan but he only let that side show to some. Especially fellow englishman that were on his wavelength, they made him feel sane in this insane country festered with political problem.

"Bullet?" Franz asked in English, a strong German accent to it exaggerating the 'Ls'. But he tried and he knew Richtofen's little secret after hearing his telephone calls and being with him so long. He didn't say anything but only simply because they'd formed an odd friendship and he paid him off well with extra rations and all sorts of wartime valuables.

"Yes, him first." He pointed out Alan, Duke seemed pretty relaxed to say what he'd been through. A good shower, some medical attention, he'd be fine. He had to be tough as nails if he wanted to survive around here. No use of their government sending out anybody strong built but not strong minded. That would be end game for the spies all together and it was just starting to become an issue as it is...


	14. Stitch me up doc..

Franz emptied the contents of his bag out on display so he could pick and choose easily with the amount of equipment he had to rummage for, it’d make more sense of how little time he had to get Alan patched up. He’d lost a significant and life threatening amount of blood now, Duke was drawing close to that marker too but he never showed any sign of it, only complained of the pain in his head. 

He slowly unwrapped the shirt compressed and replaced it with his hand, grabbing a needle and some thread. “I’ll stitch him up. Duke needs attending.” Franz mentioned, but his concentration was on Alan right now. Before any threading would happen, he needed to inspect the wound and clean it up. 

“Do you have any old cloths?” Franz asked, he was speaking his motherland’s language now, he couldn’t keep up with Duke and Richtofen’s fast English muttering. The doctor ran out to grab the cloth asked for, dampening it first and squeezing it out so it wouldn’t leave a trail on his newly polished floors. However there was already a trail of blood along his floor from Duke and in the back of his car for sure. But it wouldn’t stain if he got on it quickly. 

“What’s the plan.” Duke asked tiredly, his face was starting to grow pale and eyes tired, about ready for his bed. Or a bed to be more precise to his current situation. Getting sleep with an open wound didn’t seem to be an option though. So he stayed on the sofa watching them both scurry around, in and out for saving Alan. 

“You stay here, I have beds in the basement setup. Fuhrer knows there’s more than one infiltrator now. He’s getting paranoid, he’s onto everybody. Nobody’s safe here, but I am under my cap.” Richtofen explained briefly, getting down on his knees to wipe at the floor with a towel in hand, wiping up the trail of blood. 

“But. What about work. Won’t it seem more suspicious if we don’t turn up?” Duke asked in curiosity, the thought of being holed up in Richtofen’s basement wasn’t a pleasant one but if it meant he was doing them a lifesaving solid then it was all they had. He was sure Richtofen knew more than him to go off and make this quick decision. 

“It’ll seem even more suspicious if you turn up to Reich with a limp and a bandage, people will ask questions.” The doctor replied, tilting his head up at Duke to see if he agreed. 

“True..” Duke sighed, stubbing out the last of his cigarette and looking around the room with more confidence and time to do so. 

“Ah.. Help.” Franz suddenly told either of them, a spurt of blood came from the wound when he’d been inspecting it. Very close to the coronary arteries aka the heart. It’d definitely scraped the edge of one, but it was still intact from what Franz could tell. 

Richtofen rushed over and compressed the wound with his hands as Franz grabbed the sides and had to hold it shut. “Hold here for me.” Franz asked of him, worrying now that Alan was in immediate danger losing a lot more blood yet again. He handed the doctor a pair of gloves and he held the wound closed as much as he could, taking over on the stance. Duke watched with disgust, the blood seeping down his friend’s chest. This monster was now locked up, hopefully dead. He couldn’t bare to watch and turned away from the sight to smoke his cigarette shakily. 

Franz took a pair of medical tweezers from his arrangement and gulped, slowly encouraging Richtofen’s hands to move. He’d have to get the shrapnel out before sewing it up, or that’d cause an internal bleed and render Alan dead anyway. So he carefully nudged his fingers into the open wound with the tweezers and felt for a bullet or any of the remaining metal, pulling out small pieces at a time and inspecting it when the spurts died down and the blood drooled out instead. “We’re going to need a transfusion. Duke, what blood type are you?” Franz asked, from the aroma and discolour of the blood he could tell Alan’s type. Simple war training meant guessing rather than testing and without a hospital’s array handy he’d have no other choice. 

“Um- O positive I think.. Yeah, yeah I am.” He mumbled shakily, turning his head to briefly look at what was going on. He’d seen much worse but it was the simple fact that it was Alan that put him off. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to get hurt. 

“Perfect. I’m going to need your blood for this, come here.” Franz ordered quickly, working as swiftly as he could because now minutes with the blood loss ratio he could see, could save Alan’s life. Or otherwise.. He’d be doomed. Duke would do anything to help so he nudged closer as much as he could, holding out his wrist expectantly. His wound was nowhere near as fatal as Alan’s although it’d need stitches too, he could spare a litre at least to help his friend. 

“Ah- Just-just get this over with..” Richtofen closed the wound again when Franz pulled out the remains of the bullet, the last half and put it in the pile with the rest. That’d have to do, they could monitor Alan and make sure he wasn’t suffering any internal trauma once they’d stitched him up. Time was against them so any mistakes would be on Franz but he couldn’t risk another few minutes and another few minutes because Alan didn’t have it. 

Franz took a syringe and held Duke’s arm in place, carefully aiming the needle slightly tilted against his vein in the softer skin of the inside of his elbow, slowly guiding it in. No biggie, but Duke wasn’t a fan of needles either, not that he could complain now it was life or death for Alan. The poor guy, it should’ve been him with this wound, Alan shouldn’t have taken that bullet. After all he’d done for Duke.. the friendship, the lifesaving tips, the money, the rations… 

“I’ll need two more of these, stay there and stay completely still.” Franz mumbled, pulling it from Duke’s arm and going straight for Alan’s. But the arm veins were depleting so he had to feel at his neck instead, the next local place he could reach quickly to inject. He carefully placed the needle point and slowly guided it into the main vein of Alan’s neck, injecting the fresh blood into his stream and having to go back for a second of Duke’s. The classic way to do things, before real transfusions were invented. 

“Ah..” The area started to feel bruised already so by time he’d gone in the third time he felt it more so and sighed in pain, closing his eyes trying not to focus on it. Franz managed to get the last dose in and went straight for the needle and thread, nudging Richtofen’s hands slightly closer so the wound was closed over and concentrating closer as he stitched the wound carefully. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Duke asked faintly, trying to move his leg. Franz took over steadying the closed wound from Richtofen and let him now come to tend to Duke’s leg. 

“Hopefully. We’ll have to wait and see, he’s lost a lot of blood but yours should’ve helped.” Franz sighed, he hoped so too. Saving lives was his profession and losing them was not on the agenda, but nevertheless he grabbed out a bandage patch from his kit and some surgical tape, placing an extra bandage over the stitches in case it leaked once he’d used the dampened cloth to dab away the blood from around it. 

“Lay back.” Richtofen asked of Duke, trying to straighten out the leg so he could access it better, and then he goaded him to turn over and carefully rolled up his drenched trouser sleeve, realising he’d actually taken a pretty deep wound himself and kept quiet about it. 

“Franz.” Richtofen said in urgency, the wound hadn’t slowed all that much since he got there but the clotting had helped him out slightly. Franz left Alan to rest now he was patched up and gathered his equipment into the bag, bringing it over to Duke’s side and kneeling beside him, coming to handle his knee and check where it’d pierced. Luckily it hadn’t pierced both sides but very almost, which meant the bullet would be a pain to remove but it was better in than two gashes to be stitched. That’d leave Duke completely immobile for weeks. 

They went to work and started to remove shrapnel the same as Alan, except it was difficult with Duke shaking and twitching at the pain, muffling his cries against the pillows of the luxurious sofa they propped him against. “Hold him still.” Franz warned as Duke whined and moved his leg involuntarily in a twitch of pain with Franz’s tweezers still inside the wound, that could damage his leg further. 

It took them twenty minutes to keep him still enough to remove the pieces, spending more time on him considering how the bullet had hit and separated in his wound in comparison to Alan’s. Usually a chest wound was worse because the chest muscles were harder to penetrate and cause more separation of the pieces but Duke’s proved the tougher of challenges, probably partially because he’d been attempting to move on it so much and it’d floated apart with the movements. 

The stitches went in place easily when Duke passed out in pain, placing a small piece of cotton to soak up the excess blood on top when they’d cleaned it out and dabbed the area with a clean cloth. “All done. You might want to run them a nice hot bath, i’ll get this cleaned up.” Franz mentioned, snapping off his gloves and wandering out to dispose of them in the trash. Richtofen followed him and sighed, wiping the beads of stress from his brow now it was over. His sofas were most probably ruined but he’d decided to have it this way. Save the two rather than James. 

James was a sly, manipulative rat. Hardly worthy of the doctor’s trust or companionship. These two proved decency the first time they met together, Duke protecting that child. They still had their English pride, whereas James did not. He was basically just another Nazi now so what was the point in saving something as broken as him… 


	15. Awake

_France, October Third. 1941._

“Jones! Get down, get down! Get-” Bang. A muddy bloody oblivion. Rotten stenches and soil residue filled his nose, not so welcomed either. But what he had to work with. He ducked behind the sandbags and pressed his back to the disintegrating muddy manmade walls, panting and sweating nervously. He watched men swarm the next victim of the bullets flying above their heads. The deafening whistle of missiles before they hit the grounds nearby and splattered the ground and mud everywhere, leaving scars upon the once, scenic fields that now became war ground for vicious humans, fighting to the death for what appeared their countries. Every man had to serve their time. No going around it really. He was perfectly fit and unoccupied for anything else so he was pushed along in those lines like the rest of the cattles of men filling into the registration building, one by one.

“They got Monroe!” One of them shouted, moving back to positions. The man beside him lay dead, bullethole through his forehead, oozing out the remains crumpled up against the soppy muddy ground. David looked in fear for a moment, then he straightened up his face and trembled with anger, keeping a tight grip of his rifle as he suddenly ran forth the trench paths, past men and settled into a different spot. All the men were hiding down, shouting orders at each other and either looking nervous or relieved to still be alive. “Jones? Jones!” The soldier next to him shouted. David peeked his head out and settled his rifle down, pushing it into his shoulder and aiming on towards the men ahead on the hills, a tank was rolling up the hill, they could hear it’s disgusting cogs from there. He shot, again and again. A hardened look in his eyes as he hit one, another, another. He hit four enemies straight, all of them dropping to the ground. He ducked down to reload briefly, ignoring the shouts and cries of his fellow soldiers and fellow friends, to aim again and fire more. He was careless, zoned out from their warning and into the battlefield itself, hitting each male with precision. One poked it’s head out towards their battlefield. Without fail he shot and hit the male flying back down, dead in his trench. 

“What are you doing!” Another shouted, he was insane in their eyes. Any moment, any second now, he could be shot clearly but he was not. He swiftly reloaded and shot again, and again, he took out many, without fail, dishing out what the others weren’t. And then others slowly stopped shouting at him and started nestling at their positions too, firing with him. It became a mass, a chain going down from one to the next joining him and actually hitting many of the German invaders a lot quicker than their messy uncollected and unstrategic ways had been. Many were too nervous but not they were all showing balls of steel and brave hearts, just after Jones himself.

*

Heavy breathing, he startled awake, laying in a warm bed, wrapped up in a luxurious quilt. Too luxurious to be his own. “W-”

“Calm. You’re okay.” Franz was sat beside him in a chair, waiting solemnly, Alan was in the next room with Richtofen’s accompaniment. 

“Bad dream?”

“Yes.” Duke replied simply, his eyes were hard and upon the wall, he daren’t look Franz in the eye, a blush on his cheeks now.

“How long?”

“Two days, give or take.” 

“Alan?”

“Alive. He’s came down with a terrible fever but we’re treating him best we can. He’s in the best hands, Richtofen’s got a pocket on him.”

Duke settled then, as long as Alan wasn’t harmed. “You two go way back huh?” Franz said.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Quite.. Only when I’ve gotten to know you.” Franz spoke, handing him his watch, he’d been snooping.

“You’re not going to tell anyone right?”

“Not mine to tell. I never saw it.” Franz shrugged simply, not worried about himself, he wouldn’t have anyone other than Richtofen to slip to anyway. He hardly interacted with anyone else, trust was uncommon around here, these days.

“What about the girl. Emily?” He hit a nerve, Duke remained silent for a while, parting his lips a few times to speak, a surrender of sorts in his eyes, a sadness.

“How do you know her name?” He asked suspiciously, “Did Alan tell you?” Only Alan knew.

“You talk in your sleep. A lot.” Franz sighed, “You served?” 

“Yes. For a while. They decided they had better use for me, here.”

“Because you’re brave.” Franz finished that for him.

“Perhaps.” Duke didn’t think anything of it, he’d had a medal, an honour of sorts provided but he didn’t take it without coaxing, he didn’t even want it. He told them to give it to someone that actually deserved it, like a lady working or a suffragette. But that would seem cynical for a Government man to do, and it wasn’t protocol in their brain to stoop down to what seemed low in societal terms.

“What’s your actual name?” Franz questioned, maybe a bit too deep. 

“David..” Duke sighed, he didn’t care for dishonesty now, Franz had saved his life and Alan’s, he owed him that. And what worse could really happen, he got ratted out, he’d find a way out before they could get to him. Richtofen was on his side, he’d know just what to do if Franz decided to turn traitor. There always had to be a Plan B for that. He was German after all, maybe disgusted by what had become of his own country but still German. Anyone could be brainwashed by Hitler’s ultimatum.

“Did they give you that name to use?” 

“No.. It was a nickname I already had.”

“Why ‘Duke’” 

“Some same a Duke is someone that can dodge the bullet, literally.” He sighed, “And well that’s what I did. I earnt that name quickly.” 

“How?”

“Just luck I guess, I moved precisely a second before a bullet shaved the side of my hair off. And they saw it so I got the name. Decided to use it here, suits me huh?”

“Very much. You have already skipped over death’s doors here.”

“Not the first time. Won’t be the last..” Duke seemed unfussed by that fact, but it was a soldier’s mindset, always be prepared for the worst.

“You don’t care about that?” Franz asked, trying to pry some more.

“Not really. A life beyond must be better than a life a sitting duck. I feel I’ve already found hell.”

“I guess you’re right there.” Nobody could leave Germany. Not without special permission from Fuhrer. Which no civilian would ever be granted, not someone like Duke or Alan. Maybe not even Richtofen. 

A knock came at the bedroom door and Richtofen came tiptoeing in, forming a walk when he realised Duke was awake now.

“You’re awake, how do you feel?” Richtofen asked in English, he appreciated being able to speak his own language however he spoke German so often now he had a slight foreign accent to him when he reverted to English, it’d ware off.

“Like shit.” Duke answered, his gaze was still fixated on the wall more than anything else.

“I brought you a drink. It’ll make you feel better.” Richtofen told him, holding a glass of water.

“How is water going to make anything better.” Duke sighed and looked up at him now, weakly.

“Well. You’re dehydrated for a start..” Duke took the glass immediately and swigged it down anyway, he did feel thirsty despite his disinterest at first glance.

“And it has some painkillers in there too.” He nodded once, he could taste them anyway. 

“Alan’s still asleep?” 

“Quite. He woke briefly an hour ago.. asking of you.”

“And?”

“I told him you were asleep. He went back out of it anyway. He needs the rest, so do you.”

“It’s been two days, how can I need anymore. I don’t like to sit, officer.” Duke patronised, his guard was up for some reason and they both couldn’t work out why.

“But you cannot walk. It will just undo our good work.” Richtofen bit back.

“Maybe. But I need the bathroom.” He ignored orders and slowly moved to slide to the edge of the bed, grimacing at the feeling of moving his patched up leg for the first time in a while, it was numb but it wouldn’t be if he put any weight on it.

“Easy there.” Richtofen caught his arm as he tried to stand and instantly fell straight back down. “We may’ve stitched up the skin but the bone is still shattered. It’ll be weeks before you’ll be walking again.”

Duke steadied and sighed, silently accepting Richtofen’s help as he guided him into the bathroom and left him be once he was confident Duke would have something to hold onto and not fall. 

“Has he been like this since he woke?” Richtofen asked Franz quietly once the door was shut.

“Mm.” Franz hummed in response, “Very defensive. Does he trust you?”

“I don’t know. I hope he would.”

“He’s honest at least, when I ask him questions. He told me.”

“Oh?” Richtofen sounded intrigued, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Like?”

“His real name, his past. But he didn’t want to tell me about that girl.”

“I know her.” Richtofen said, looking at the picture Franz showed him of Emily.

“He told me about that, he wanted to get through no man’s land somehow.”

“Yes. Are you planning to help him?”

“If I can, I will. But first I want to make sure he gets better.”

“His name is David. He served before he arrived here.” Franz told him.

“Explains the detachment.” Richtofen responded.

“I’ll need to go out and get some more supplies, painkillers. Will you make sure they settle.” Franz asked of him, he was the professional doctor around here, he had concern for his patients.

“Of course I will.” Richtofen shook his head with a slight smile now, “Don’t be long, the march starts soon. I need to be there.”


	16. Introducing..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update here! Just for specs.

Duke managed to wobble through from the bathroom on his own, keeping his right leg less pressured than his left to avoid falling over. “Uh- Could I?” He had trouble asking for help always but he was definitely going to fall over on the way to the bed with no supports to hold whatsoever.

Richtofen came over swiftly, Franz departed after checking on Alan once and making sure he took a gulp of his water at least. “Careful.” The doctor spoke to Duke as he tried to press down on his leg. It was even harder to deal with now he’d been resting it and the initial shock of being shot in the first place, had worn. 

The bed wasn’t far although without Richtofen escorting him it would’ve felt a mile. “Thankyou.” Duke mumbled humbly, laying back down and pulling up the sheets. Although the place was warmed by the fireplaces going and good insulation keeping it in, he still had an urge to let off a shiver so he wrapped up in blankets and laid helplessly in bed, frowning upon what to do with himself without any way of action. 

“Where is Franz?” Duke asked quietly, inspecting the large bedroom curiously. This was Richtofen’s room. Alan was in the spare room but apart from that there wasn’t another place for them to comfortably rest, Duke took good note of that with his habit to observe and absorb everything, from surroundings to gestures. The bed was a much stabler model than the one he’d been living with at his own proffered apartment. But then the officers would have the better accommodation. 

“He’s out collecting supplies for you two.” Richtofen answered simply and then it struck Duke that he was being entirely uncouth.

“Ah. I believe we haven’t properly introduced.” Duke started with a slight smile, more nervous than not.   
They only went off second names and ranks so far, to keep privacy and keep themselves safe but what Richtofen was doing was already lawbreaking, a penalty of death and completely unexpected so Duke believed he owed the man his respect, and his life at that. 

“I’m George. George Rodgers. Formerly Colonel of 22 Brigade.” George or Richtofen as he was publicly referred and known in Berlin, introduced warmly, glad the topic had came up or he’d have to awkwardly mention it himself.

“David Jones, Sargeant of 73.” David spoke comfortably, shaking his hand weakly from the bed. Keeping their masks on was important out and about, but in here, in this position, it was the least of the two fellow Englishmen’s concerns. 

“73 as in..”

“Yes. I am the one.” David sighed ever so slightly, he was known for a few common things among all males serving their duty. A local phenomenon in fact. 

“They sent you out here!” George was surprised but not entirely for just the reason it’d seem.

“I mean you’re the toughest around but.. after all that shit I wouldn’t expect them to throw you back in like this.” 

“I volunteered. It seems military is the only life for me now.” David admitted sheepishly. His history was vague to him in places but it was reminiscent in other places. Of what he had been through and how lucky he had been. 

“And Alan?” 

“Is simply Alan Jones, of 74.” 

“I guess they only allow the best out here.” 

“I guess so.” David tapped, “Do you have anything to eat here?” He asked suddenly, his stomach had been rumbling.

“Yes, plenty. I can fix you and Alan up a good meal, just rest.” Rodgers told him with insistence, feeling guilty of his poor hospitality now. But it all made sense. They knew each other to be Englishmen but not whereabouts up until this point. Now it was mapped out. 

David nodded, hardly able to move anywhere anyway, he resisted temptation to explore and pressed his head to the pillow, stubbornly staring at the wall, trying to resist his heavy eyelids. He was malnurished and exhausted still. The rations he got may’ve seemed like a miracle as they were but it was hardly good enough to keep his sturdy fit body working, not enough vitamin or vegetable in there. 

A victorian house at least. It’d be such a shame to see it crumble yet he couldn’t doubt that sometime it may. England was under heavy attack now, as was Germany, France and Russia. It was all breaking loose, his home probably laid a calculated ruin somewhere now. His family were safely secured in his home and there was a bunker ready prepared for them, he did what he could before he left off for this mission of sorts. Most said it would be his last, and he knew what they meant by that. How would he return from this. Well they obviously didn’t learn from the first time...


	17. Lay low

_France, October Tenth, 1943_

Midnight. Clusters of bodies, huddling up close in the poor conditions of the bunker, without the luxury of heating that civilians had currently. Many gloated over this entirely, not that their life was accustom to a very near limit. Jones however, was outside. Handgun clutched in one hand, a smoke between his fingers in the other. He’d managed to scavenge for a jacket and being higher in rank, this was his privilege. 

“What are you doing out here sarg?” A soldier emerged from the bunker, his hair a mess, face a frostbitten red in places. Forget papercuts. Hands were never usually the same after a day out in the oblivion. His uniform was surprisingly clean, as was Jones’ always. Rolling around in mud didn’t mean he wouldn’t jump on the first chance he got to clean it off. His hair was always short and well maintained. He’d smuggled his own hair supplies, his need to be clean clear to everyone else who tried to nab any of his supplies. Food was scarce; however his hair gel was plenty.

“Just.. Smoking..” Jones sighed, his harsh eyes upon the softer moonlight, cast upwards towards the luminous asteroid itself. He took his sweet time whenever he got the chance to enjoy a cigarette, and he usually had a consecutive few too. Killing at least thirty minutes just settled and calming. He was a hardass around, everyone knew. But he was always calm; almost creepily so to most. In the middle of a war. Trenchfoot and infection prominent. Bodies scattered. Either a pleasant smell of mud or a not so pleasant smell of rotting was to their disposal. They were amidst a stand off. Against the Germans also along the other bunker. Within the next day or so this would be over, they would push up and hope to clear them out before they were surrendered themselves, to the soil and mush. Nobody wanted to question what the ground was actually made of, and they were right to keep that closed.

“Not the sleeping type huh?” The soldier moved to settle a slump next to Jones, not uncomfortably close. They hadn’t met before but they weren’t from the same squad, this new squad arrived late and they had yet to realise what death they’d walked into. Most of Jones’ men were either upon the many they buried earlier on or the ones remaining, few in number to the new squad. Jones was the only surviving rank there, the other sat right next to him, a corporal. 

“I prefer the night.” Jones spoke quietly, as to not disturb the either trying to sleep or just drifted off men. The shooting took a while to calm but the Germans seemed to have retreated, the air was soft and the alpines eerily quiet. But it was relaxing, to watch his own breath rise and the smoke cloud above him, unsettled by the moonlight. A full moon too, a pretty sight he’d savour. There wasn’t much left to call beautiful around here anyway. 

“I’m Jones.” The soldier spoke and David turned his head abruptly from his stare and gave a peculiar frown.

“Oh? I’m Jones too.” He replied with a brief soften in his gaze at the shivering male before him, harmless. And the first to try and make conversation with him, normally. Nothing about, rank this, order that. He didn’t seem to care for the rank, he just wanted to chat and sit. And by the looks of it, he was a night owl too.

“Names David.” He introduced properly, reflecting upon that thought and deciding the surnames were useless. 

“Alan.” The soldier replied, kicking at the muddy pools timidly.

“You’re corporal huh? How’d you get that?” David asked of him curiously, there always had to be a reason for this kind of engagement. A show of bravery or something ‘useful’ to the government. 

“Father’s a general. He didn’t want me getting singled out.” Alan sighed quietly, it sounded very uncouth of him, but that was all there was to it. 

“So he gave you a rank?” David mused, bringing a smile out of Alan.

“Yeah, right.” Alan smiled now, chuckling slightly as David did. 

*

Duke bolted upright, gasping and shaking. He’d fallen out of bed, hit the floor with a loud thud. George’s footsteps came echoing up, fast and firm until he was in the room, realising what’d happened. Such a nice dream too, a memory. Living in his head was sometimes a luxury more than anything tragic or reminding of how it could’ve been. But it wasn’t a permanent option with all these pesky soldiers around, small talk was their only know how. No intellectual conversations to be had really, not with Germans anyway. Too brainwashed to talk of anything other than what Hitler fed them.

“Are you alright?” George knelt down, helping David up carefully and getting him settled back into bed. 

He nodded back and rubbed his eyes, yawning and taking in his surrounding finally. The front door closed and a pair of feet tapped and brushed against the doormat. “Franz!” 

“Yes!” Franz called, coming straight up the stairs and settling down a bag full of rations and medical supplies that he could barter for with various links of his. A lot of medical supplies these days consisted of the nearest t-shirt and bottle of alcohol but Franz was professional, long in his career and he made friends along the way. It wasn’t easy but he’d managed to grab some fresh bandages and supplies to keep Alan and David stable. 

David started to slip back into his sleep pretty quickly, everything went blurry and then he was out like a light again. “How did you get him to sleep?” George asked suspicious of David’s sleepiness, the man was too driven to sleep so peacefully. “Sedatives.” Franz sighed, “In his water. I know it’s such a damned method but I knew he would resist and he needs to stay still.”


	18. Dreams?

_Luxembourg, October 23rd, 1943._

“Push up!” Jones ordered, holding his back to a wall, peering from the edge with his gun clenched in hand. His twelve person squad moved ahead of him and he checked behind them, they were now moving into German territory, Luxembourg, french spoken once, until the Germans got their grubby hands on it. Now there were Nazi flags waving and German branded cigarette boxes crunched at the sides of the roads, muddy tracks never mistaken for German boots and a two tanks.

Their boots clattered and Jones only made one gesture and they settled and crept along instead, Alan just in front of him. “Gather.” He spoke quietly to them, standing his ground at a corner pass, out of sight of the main square or the target for today, to clear and push. “Snipers on the roof, two ATTs either side of the hall.” One of the soldiers provided, holding binoculars. Even that would have blown their cover and got them all killed, or at least him. The sun blaring through the clouds, the slight glint of the lens of the binoculars and the snipers would catch whiff and spot them. 

“Away.” He ordered, standing straight and holding his gun between his hands, drawn to his chest, as did the others. 

“Silence is mandatory. Unless we are to commit mass suicide, I want no boots, take off your glasses Jones.” He told Alan and he looked confused, these less experienced men didn’t know what it felt like to have one’s helmet shot off, head just remaining in tact. David did.

Alan did so without question, any backchat could have him beaten by the commanding charge. David wasn’t a tough leader, but in the face of battle he’d do anything to survive, his primitive side came out.  
“Yes sarg.” They all said quietly, holstering up their weapons now in the fire position and unclicking their safety catches. David was carrying a 50. caliber on his back, strapped there, face a murky colour of ash and worn mud from where their last encounter rendered them. A close call but they’d stumbled away and came across this humble town, rotten with the smell of enemies. 

David crept ahead and put barely one eye round the corner of the next building, open to the square and very quickly took his glance. He made two movements of his hands and two men came his way, standing closely behind him. The others scattered and made their way separately in little packs, the two behind him crept round with others and Alan remained with David instead.

“What do you think you're doing? I said go with them.” Jones whispered.

“I’m not leaving you alone.” Alan whispered back adamantly, they’d grown a friendship quickly, or whatever they wanted to call it, yet to be labelled. David adamantly held back, keeping stern until they were in confidence, when he finally relaxed and Alan saw the man he’d grown to know well over their night conversations. Sharing memories, war stories and even rations. The other soldiers would not know of this under any circumstance but them sticking together on grounds whilst travelling was normal, ranks always stuck together in a separate clan to laugh upon soldiers, or most did. 

They retreated to the side of the tall building, David knelt down and produced a bobby pin from under his helmet, working on a lock. “They don’t teach you that in the army, how’d you know how to pick a lock?” Alan poked as he knelt beside David, watching him pick the rusty lock…

*

“D..duh..d” David rolled over and winced suddenly, his eyes shot open again and he squinted around the room. The curtains were drawn and the night had struck, sun just going down. He sat up and clutched at the bandage on his knee, exhaling his pain and collecting himself. George’s voice came from beside him and he almost jumped as the small bedside lamp turned on. George was sat beside the bed in a chair, watching him rest.

“Need more pain relief?” George asked as he watched David sit up and lean back against the headboard, sighing and sweating. 

“Yeah..” Usually he’d simply and adamantly say no but it hadn’t hurt like this earlier. The adrenaline had worn, painkillers slipped into his drink had too. “More?”

George grabbed a bag Franz had left before he’d went to rest himself, in the same room as Alan. It was like babysitting but they knew these two were literally, in the wars. Falling out of bed wasn’t a good start for David’s independence. “Yes, we gave you some earlier. And some sedatives, so you would rest without a fight, because you need it. Are you hungry now?” George replied tiredly, getting up to go grab David a drink after he’d handed him the pain relief tablets. There was a bowl of soup sat on the bedside table, still warm from the steam rising still, highlighted by the dim light streams. 

“Uh- yes..” David had never seemed so humble, but now he was in a bad situation, injured leg and lack of mobility with a need to swipe the pain away, if only he could, hopefully the magic tablets George offered would do the trick. Or he could go for a hit, if he had any in his pockets still… The Germans probably took that at the cells, it wouldn’t surprise him.

“Have you any coffee?” David asked, calming to relax back down, head on the pillow. 

“Yes, that and some water.” George nodded, listing the things he needed.

“And a spoon!” David called after him as he left, sighing and relaxing back down against the pillows. He was in a cold sweat of sorts, he felt like he was coming down with something, it wouldn’t shock him with the conditions of the cells he’d spent hours in, that was long enough to contract every illness possible, with the state of it. Rats and feces, mud and dust. A bacteria breeding ground more like. David hated feeling unclean and right now he was feeling so, drenched in sweat. The bed felt damp, he wiped his forehead and face with his shirt as he went to discard of it and lower the sheets slightly. Franz had already done him the courtesy of removing his pants, when they went to work on him, so he remained in boxers and took some deep breaths, trying to cool down. 

George had still been in his uniform, probably just soon back from the march. He needed his bed back. David manoeuvred slowly to swing his legs off the bed, one limp the other firm on the floor. He grabbed the bowl and a generously placed walking stick, getting his balance before he tried to move. He felt unkempt walking George’s house with little on but he didn’t want to be taking up his bed, that pushed it for David. 

He hobbled slowly towards the stairs just as George came back up them. “Where are you off to? You need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine on the sofa.” David said stubbornly and George sighed and shook his head. 

“No, I insist you have my bed, that leg needs to be straight so it can heal.” George told him coming closer and rushing to the bedroom to put the drinks down before he took the bowl from David’s unsteady hand and guided him back towards the bedroom. He didn’t go willingly, trying to turn back and talk George out of it but he ended up planted back in the now damp bed, after a quick trip to the bathroom.


	19. Cornered..

“I am sure this luxury is to share.” George tried to break down David’s stubborn barrier as he sat him down on the bed and made damn sure he stayed, taking the stick away and placing it out of reach for now. 

“But not with me, how do I deserve this bed over you?” David replied, his face showing complete innocence to this question, he honestly did not know, “You’re the one that saved my life, you and Franz deserve our beds.” A very soldier thing to say, he reverted to his rural self and tried to get back up despite the lack of cane. George took the glass of water and offered it to him, grabbing the pills too now and popping them in his palm. 

“Trust me David, you deserve every bit of care that i’ll give you. You’ve saved more lives than I.” George fessed up, he was simply here, being an insider, feeding back bits of information. He risked his own life for it but he was pretty good at it too, no need to feel brave. What David had done already was brave, meeting the man himself here and knowing of the tales folk had passed around like hearsay about him were true and that this was the singular hero, he had to take his hat off to the man, despite his confusion to the basic gesture of care, maybe it was something he wasn’t quite used to having.

“Have I? Or have I taken more than I’ve saved.” David asked rhetorically, but it wasn’t a thinking matter with George, he knew this man’s heart was good and with what he’d achieved, they were better off now he’d done so. 

“Of foe not friend, David. To save our own, you have done good.” George frowned at him now, he found this simple denial modest, yet, odd. Usually men that walked through flames and came out without but a scratch were accepting of the applause. But David seemed no stunt man. He had a crack shot, people had to give him that. He also had luck, lots of luck on his side. There were countless times where life flashed before his eyes, but the flash was inviting. He was ready to embrace it at points, so high up in national esteem yet so low in self reflection.

“It’s still a life, George. I don’t agree with it.” David sighed, the truth came out. But it was obvious he wasn’t in fact one for violence, he always seemed so mellow, like his fingers were always curled round a white flag of peace yet he was booted into the frontline with the rest. The man seemed to be a bit trapped, inside his own mind. George had learnt a lot of his history just sitting there beside his bed whilst he slept. Him and Alan did hold a history, that was certain. 

David drank down the water, licking his lips when he was done and placing the glass down, giving George a knowing look as he watched. “Sedatives. I knew the water had a funny taste the first time.” He sighed, but he did not seem to care, there was a level of stress on his face that George could relate to, a pain in his eyes. He wasn’t just telling the truth but confiding something within George now, he could tell David didn’t discuss this often, or with anyone other than himself. 

“Neither do I. But I do what I can to survive.” George had a different view point at a slight tilt from David’s, but they were on the right lines. Alan was more violent than David, he was relentless and careless. David cared, George pinpointed that. 

David took a spoon to the bowl on his lap and sipped the soup, “Real meat?”

“Yes.” George had a small smile now, he then realised that David was changing the topic, but he dropped it. It wasn’t for him to poke at the man’s business, it was obviously touchy. 

David only had a few spoonfuls before he dropped the spoon suddenly and George went to take the bowl before it’d fall from his now limp, tired body. He placed the soup back on the side and sighed, maybe he should’ve waited to give him the sedatives, so he could at least get something nutritional in him. The slop David could magic up at his home here, was just starch and seasoning, no proteins or anything a thin man like him would need. Thin yet toned, he had quite a nice body, George found himself drifting in the chair and he fell asleep without even noticing himself going, soon fast asleep too. 

*

“Get down.” David hissed towards Alan as they crept along through the buildings, missing walls in places, damaged by bullet holes and scars of fallen bombs. 

There was a big opening up ahead. Even their helmet were a hazard to any scoped fiends nearby, if they were really good at their job, noticing the shine of the top of a metal helmet wouldn’t be anything other than textbook to them. David knew it all well, he was a marksman himself. Pistols and rifles just didn’t do the trick anymore, he’d managed to scavenge a proper 50. rifle from a corpse. Maybe disrespectful, but it was a German, he couldn’t be too crude to someone sent to kill him and his fellows. 

David crept towards a wall and laid down on his front, Alan moved to another wall and cocked his rifle back, he didn’t have a scope but he could watch David’s back. He wasn’t too sure about this plan of David’s but he seemed to be confident. 

David settled hidden yet able to see the opposing buildings ahead where he knew the enemy hid, his instinct and his men told him. There were clueless Germans wandering around on the roof, snipers stopping for cigarettes. This would be the biggest mistake they ever made, probably waiting days or even weeks without end just to let their guard down when the enemy arrived. 

His men had long wandered into the grasp of the enemy, stupid and resembling headless chickens without David holding their hands. But then this had been foreseen when he split from them. Now there were two on their knees before a German soldier, at the hands of mercy, despite their training explicit on doing no such thing as surrender. David was so bored with the average soldier, getting them to jog on was easy enough. The rest of them were nowhere to be seen but he was guessing this was some big joke and a ploy to surprise attack the Germans or those two had the weakest minds of them all. “Are those yours?” David whispered to Alan and he sighed.

“Yes. More manure sent fresh from England.. They send them out like bait.” Alan replied quietly, watching the scene until it unfolded into the two captives being shot. Suddenly there was gunfire from building in the court, closer to the germans, some of them being hit, snipers were back at their posts, focusing in on the building where the shots were delivered. The two officers had been gunned down already, more soldiers were showing their face at the windows, shooting. The court started to fill with loud gunfire and David settled and relaxed in his post, looking through his scope and vetting out the two snipers, making a plan. Shoot one then the other in rapid succession, it was hard to pull off with a bolt action but if anyone could do it, Jones was the man for it. His accuracy was far superior, he still had some of his first magazine which he’d been handed a week ago, whereas his soldiers were scavenging for more of their own.

Alan didn’t shoot, he knew David could do this himself but he aimed nevertheless on one of the snipers, without the scope it’d be a very lucky shot but he was pretty good with a rifle too. He waited until he saw David completely still and holding his breaths, trying to get a perfect balance and he did the same. The first shot went off and the Germans panicked instantly, the distinct sound between a sniper and rifle were astounding, it could’ve blew their eardrums but David was quite resistant to the sound, he just quickly and slowly reloaded, aiming upon the second sniper who was now looking around and trying to hide. David could see his arm sticking out so he decided to make a warning, aiming carefully and taking his second shot moments after the first, to hit the sniper’s hand and then he crawled backwards as Alan ran for the door and David got up moments later and followed him. The key tactics of a sniper were to move as frequently as possible, so no one could guess where it came from. They both moved out of the house and round the back of the court, the opposite way from where their men were stationed, fighting off the Germans. 

They ran light-footed across the paved roads, upturned cars and flags waving from the tops of buildings. Staying close together and making checks on every corner, window and area. But they turned the next corner without much thought and ran right into a fleet, just metres away from them, marching down. They shouted and upholstered their guns but David and Alan spun on the spots and swiftly ran back, finding the nearest door and kicking it open, they hurried inside and went up the stairs, hiding and waiting. There were angry shouts and orders coming outside in German, but Alan and David knew fluent German already. 

Left panting and gulping trying to contain their nerves equally, it seemed the Germans hadn’t worked out where they’d vanished off to yet but they both heard shots start to fire and their native language being spoken and raised voices of their men as they fought off the soldiers they’d ran into on their way to making their way back to their Sergeant who was now holed up in an abandoned house with the other official rank, shaking in their boots. Being shot by the Germans there and then would be kind. But they were only two, the men could’ve easily got their kneecaps and dragged them to someplace miserable instead.


	20. Hide

_10:41pm_

David and Alan held their breaths and closed their eyes, pressed against the back of the wardrobe, hoping their boots wouldn’t show when the wardrobe suddenly opened and closed again. There were Germans muttering and conversing just metres away, violently tipping out the contents of wardrobes and checking every corner of the room thoroughly. They hadn’t seen the two enter the building so they still had a slight chance of escape.

David felt Alan’s hand come to entwine with his, feeling it shake between his calmer hands, David didn’t seem to express much fear in the sense of their lives being potentially moments away from it’s end or worse, to be dragged somewhere and tortured first. The Germans were notoriously whispered about and rumor had it that they had camps and a whole organisation called the Gestapo just for torture and killing, it sounded gruesome so the English and French were on high alert not to get caught because it could just be their fate to land themselves in a cell rather than prettier looking way out of a bullet to the brain.

The wardrobe they were crouched in opened and one soldier rummaged around in the coat hangers, starting to search. At this point it was almost certain that this soldier was going to find them but while Alan froze on the spot, David suddenly roared and dived for the man, tackling him down and shooting him in the skull. There were only two other men and they turned around and shouted in rapid German, unholstering their pistols but it wasn’t in the knick of time. David kicked one of them down to the ground firmly and grabbed the other by the hair throwing him down with his friend. “Stay still.” David spoke softly to them both, leaning down and looking one of them in the eye, surrendered with their guns kicked across the floorboard and from their reach by David’s foot. 

“You, shh.” He whispered, and they both gulped, some of the men that were thought to be the bravest, that were sent on the frontline to fight, were shaking and surrendering to one scarily composed Englishman. Alan emerged from the wardrobe and witnessed the scene and David grabbed a pillow and shot them both in the head one by one through the pillow, silencing anymore bullets. One was enough to alert anyone nearby but he doubted all the soldiers would be nearby, probably scattered and searching other premises. 

Alan sighed and gulped himself, looking a bit guilty now, David had just saved his life, yet again. “C’mere and grab this.” David gruffed to Alan, undressing one of the German soldiers. 

“What’re you… N-no.. But.” Alan didn’t seem to sure about this, he registered what David was doing and came to his knees beside David anyway, forced by the power David had over him with those sharp, fearless eyes of his piercing his own.

“Put it on.” David told him sternly, undressing the other German and pulling off the uniform for himself. Alan got up and sat on the dust covered bed, undressing himself and kicking off his boots, he pulled on the grey trousers and his own boots back on first, then the shirt and jacket, the rank, cap and even gun. He took all the items provided by David from the corpses and brushed himself off as he stood up, “Alright? Now what?” He asked as David just finished dressing himself up.

“You do speak fluent German, don’t you?” David confirmed quickly, they’d had a discussion and found out they both spoke fluent German yet never spoke to each other in the language. He had to be sure Alan wasn’t talking out of his arse just to fit in. 

“Yes, fluent.” Alan spoke in German now, sounding and looking the part. 

“Good, now. Change of plan. We’re going to infiltrate the base ourselves, I haven’t heard a single shot since we were chased so I presume ours have either retreated or KIA.” David spoke back in German and Alan nodded.

“That sounds crazy but I suppose it’s our only option now, they know we’re here.” Alan agreed, picking up one body as David did, they made sure all three were hidden under the bed and wiped the blood up with spare cloth laying about, making it look just as it was before the Germans entered, besides the mess they made. Just in case more fleets came in and checked this building out, so they’d see it was clear and ransacked already.

“Let’s go.” David muttered, grabbing the German rifle and loading it first, Alan copied him and followed him down the stairs of the building and towards the front door they’d entered from originally. The first thing they saw when they left the building was the tank just down the road, with ‘their’ soldiers marching alongside, checking and spraying bullets into each building, they were making damn sure the ‘English’ were gone or exterminated. 

David took the lead and headed towards the tank and soldiers formally, Alan on tow and checked their back and followed along. The soldiers heard them coming and turned around, not pointing their guns but shouting at them. “All clear?” One of them said and David stepped up, “Yes.” 

“Yes what, rookie?” David didn’t notice the slides on the soldier's arms and then realised he was addressing a general, “Yes, General.” David corrected and the officer nodded and turned back, letting them follow behind. How foolish could they be, if it wasn’t for the tank, David might’ve been crazy enough to try and take all of them down too. His rampage was certain, he made a mark wherever he went. It was unfortunate he’d had to hide the bodies. 

*

“Richtofen! Open the door now!” There were two officers outside of Richtofen’s door in the morning, demanding entry. But it was particularly early and due to the fact that they’d all been up all night, it woke all of them individually with a startle. David opened his eyes first and frowned at the light, squinting and turning his back to the curtains half open. Richtofen woke and sat up straight in the armchair he’d accidentally fallen asleep in, jumping to his feet when he registered the loud knocks and bolting downstairs at once. David groaned and lifted his head, grabbing the pillow and holding it against his ears as he tried to sleep more, the sedatives hadn’t quite worn off yet, he was having such a lucid dream that he wished to return to. 

Richtofen answered the door at once, undoing the latches and peeking out. “What on earth has gotten into you two?” He grumbled at the two officers that straightened out and sighed.

“Fuhrer is coming! We just came to warn you, we’re doing a round of the whole neighbour. Hide whatever you have to hide.” They warned Richtofen, they may have women round, they may have drugs or things classed whimsical to the leader. 

But boy was George glad those officers told him in advance. He nodded and thanked them, closing the door as they rushed off to the next house along, and making his way up stairs to alert the others and scurry to hide David and Alan. He went for Alan and Franz first and explained the situation, gathering them and helping Alan into where David laid trying to sleep still. 

“David, we have a slight problem. Fuhrer’s on his way round the houses with his inspectors, we need to hide you.” George rushed and let Alan settle down on the bed, coughing and groaning as he held his weak chest. Franz tutted, “On such short notice, how on earth are we going to hide them.” 

“Here.” George was pre-prepared, he knelt down and pushed the bed ever so slightly right angled, revealing a rug and pulling it away, he pulled out a loose bolt from a the floorboards and opened it up, there was a secret crawlspace down there. “In here. Franz I’ll need you in there too, to keep these two safe and make sure they’re alright.

“Alright.” Franz didn’t need to be bartered with as he literally got up and hopped right down into the crawlspace, crawling out of sight and waiting. George held Alan’s shoulder as he helped him down into the space and then David budged out of bed and with support, eased down into the space. George cussed under his breath and brushed his hair with a palm. “It won’t be long, I’ll let you out as soon as the coast is clear.” He announced, replacing the boards and bolts and covering it up with the rug, he moved his bed back into place and got up, going to get changed into his uniform and quickly.

“Fucking hell.” David laid down on the cold hard floor, insulting his bare skin, however he had no choice. He would’ve taken the whole duvet with him, had it fit. Every time George stepped the dust was disturbed and floated down, getting in their eyes. There were bugs and creepy crawlies down here but it was like staying in a hotel in comparison to what could happen to them if they didn’t hide. Pitch black, they settled and remained silent after that, hearing George’s footsteps disappear down the stairs. Now all they could do was wait.


	21. Inspection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I called one of the characters of this story after my great grandfather who fought in the second world war. Alan, is named after him in honour.

_12:24am_

Crouched upon the side of the moving tank with Alan just behind him as ever, they hitched a ride into the German camp on the east side of Luxembourg with the other soldiers having no idea what they were getting themselves into. David was settled comfortably and Alan was the opposite, clinging on for his dear life at the rocky ride along the countryside paths. Whatever had happened to his squad, he wished them the best. But for now it was survival of the fittest, and that didn’t just mean physically. David proved the strongest mentally, he always had a plan b, he always had a strong backbone for whatever thrown his way. That’s why he made a great soldier, despite his solidarity of stubborn attitude never to go to these realms and take a life, he did it with ease like it was all built in, anything to keep the hairs on his head their brown and his brave heart pumping. Maybe that made him selfish in a way, but he did not lower himself to steep that far into thought, it’d wreck his tally of strong mentality. 

He lit up a cigarette, having scavenged a pack from the dead soldier rotting under the bed back in the little border town of Luxembourg, luckily so too, he could do with one after that little misdemeanour.  
Alan settled down next to him eventually, having gotten over his nerves to stop clenching so tightly as he watched David smoke away like there was no chance of him getting flung off the moment the tank hit a bump. Such a fearless soul, how did he earn the honour of meeting this partner’s company. Now it was just them versus the world, going deep into the heart of German camps here, there was no chance of refuge or pick up from their men, not this far into enemy territory. 

The black starry night caught David’s attention again, he seemed to enjoy the lucid dream of gazing upon stars and moon, he seemed almost harmonious when his eyes joined with the sight. Alan pondered why but then he wasn’t one to poke, he just kept quiet and settled next to David, being surprised by his first move. He didn’t turn his head away from the sight, but he moved his hand to offer Alan the cigarettes and a lighter, without even asking, he knew the man smoked and was in need of one himself. So Alan happily took one and joined him there in quiet bliss, once he’d lit up the end and started gazing into the sky, he realized just how blissful it was, the horrible sound of the machinery in the tank was almost out of earshot once they were there and that solitary world, he zoned out.

Bodies upon bodies were scattered along the paths the tank took, at the sides of the roads or scattered around, but the further they got, the more German soldiers there were out in groups, picking them up and burning them in masses. It was the only effective way to get rid of them, burying them would waste valuable time and energy, they didn’t have the heart Englishmen did, whom took a poppy to their will and left them together in ditches to be buried.

There was banter going around the men, laughing and chattering away, but David did not feel the need to join them, it would strike them as odd but then they didn’t really know who he was after all. He’d just explained he was from a division of Germans that had been under attack, that him and Alan were the only survivors. He wasn’t the most social of men there, so he kept his head down and lessened the risk of being found out with little words spoke and little eye contact made. 

Soon enough they rolled into the camp, made in another smaller town in Luxembourg, in the countryside where the English would not disturb their devising. There were hundreds of soldiers here, making camp in houses, sitting at campfires and playing broken guitars, the only light provided being the moon’s. They came to a stop and all of them hopped off, the tank drivers getting out via the top hatch and making their own ways, they all divided, David and Alan followed the rest of the rookies around and made themselves camouflaged in the flurry of men coming into the nearest house. Instantly a smell of cooking meat filled their noses, their senses coming to life, no more rotting bodies, real food.   
They made their way upstairs and the room was crammed with soldiers, all collecting bowls of stew and rations of meat, they’d slaughtered a few pigs found in the farms of this town, spit roasting it over a large fire. 

David and Alan were both starved, they’d not eaten in four days, their rations had ran dry and they’d had no contact with their men to get anything. Like wild animals they got in queue and stared at the roasting pig, stepping forwards each time another soldier left the queue with a bowl until it was their turn. “New guys huh?” The female serving the food spoke in German, and they both nodded, “We were stranded, they brought us along for the ride.” The female passed David a bread roll, bowl of stew and slice a few pieces of the cooked pork into the mix. It looked like heaven to him right now, he waited for Alan to get his own and then they made their way along the halls of the building towards a recreational room where many men were settled along the floor eating away. David made his way in and slumped down against a wall, sitting in a corner with Alan next to him. No conversation was needed, they started to eat hungrily the moment they settled on the floorboard. 

*

Knock, knock. Richtofen was awaiting that sound in the lounge of his home, tapping his fingers nervously and taking deep breaths. He’d never been so nervous to see the Fuhrer, but then now he had a reason to fear the visit, despite being a favourite of the leader’s for his loyalty and hardwork. 

George got up and walked to the door, opening it up after undoing the latches, he swung it open and greeted the soldiers and leader waiting outside. “Good Evening, Richtofen.” Hitler spoke and George assumed an at attention posture and saluted the leader first, “Good Evening.” He didn’t need to ask what was going on, he wouldn’t either way, he was patted on the back for asking no questions when he followed up on the dirty work he was sent to do. Ratting out spies, finding weak links, being a detective ultimately. 

The soldiers stepped inside after Hitler, letting Richtofen close the door and invite them in. “We’re just doing our weekly inspection, don’t mind them, I know you have nothing to hide so I’ve told them not to make any mess.” That was a gesture of kindness from the Fuhrer, or as close as it’d get to one. The other officers around probably had their houses ransacked, turned upside down. The soldiers went upstairs first, George gulped and moved on to invite Hitler into his kitchen. “A drink?”

“Not on the job.” Hitler said sternly, however George got a glass out for himself nevertheless, and poured himself a whiskey, he needed something to calm his nerves right now. “Where is Franz?” The leader asked of him.

“Not here now, he’s due to arrive this afternoon.” George knew how to answer that question correctly, he passed the tests every time, Franz wasn’t allowed to stay overnight for the simple fear of homosexuality in this country. Males weren’t allowed to stay with other males, females with other females, it was textbook to Hitler’s rules and regulations. Being caught with another male in the house overnight, it was instantly seen as homosexual intention and illegal, the victim would be taken away to one of the secret underground prisons of the Gestapo and sentenced to their punishment or depending, even death if they were caught in the act. 

They heard footsteps above them, holding their breaths and keeping it to a minimum when they did take a breath. The soldiers were right above them searching the very bedroom they were in. Moving items, searching wardrobes and they moved the bed. Spotting the rug and tugging it to reveal the floorboards leading to where the men were huddled. The soldiers inspected the floorboards and tapped at them with their feet. David held his breath and felt his heart thud, if they worked out the floorboards were loose they may suspect them. But they heard the rug flop back down and the bed move back into place as the soldiers left the room swiftly and searched the next room along. They all let out deep exhales and awaited their time to leave this filthy crawlspace.


	22. Suspicions

“D’you think they’re gone?” Alan whispered to David nervously, taking a risk even speaking in case one of them had snuck back into the room. Twenty more minutes had passed, the door had opened and closed ten minutes ago but no one had been heard coming back upstairs, the voices had ceased and so had the movement around the house. 

“I don’t know.” David whispered back and frowned at the lack of movement and noise going on, surely George would’ve came and gotten them straight out of there after the discussion and letting them out. How strange.

Franz was oddly quiet but then he moved and spoke up, “I’ll go out and check.” He said boldly, although it’d be a challenge getting out from the inside, he couldn’t sit around and wait. Not if something had happened unexpectedly. 

“No!” David whispered warningly, grabbing Franz’ wrist before he could wriggle away and try to pry the hatchway. “It could be an extra test, a trap.” He spoke quietly, he’d had this happen to him before… Back in Luxembourg. It wasn’t going to happen again. Not on his watch. An instance where he thought it safe to lure from his hiding spot turned out to be a military technique used to lure them out instead of walking away. They could’ve simply duct taped George and opened and shut the door on purpose. It’d be pretty smart but then Hitler was pretty serious about ironing out the creases. 

“Where’s the blood from?” Hitler probed quietly, George’s mouth stuffed with a cloth, the two soldiers holding his arms. They’d noticed the blood stains on the floorboards and sofa, faint but still visible to the detail inspecting eye. After a few moments of struggling they took the cloth from George’s mouth and he gasped and trembled, “I c-cut myself.. Fr-Franz patched me up last night.” He lied so blatantly but convincingly to their eye. 

It could be true, but where was the mark to prove it. “Show me the injury.” Hitler demanded, he was being very picky today, they were supposed to be friends, but now even his friends were being shook down like the enemy. George stuttered and the soldiers let go of him and ripped his shirt open first, checking his chest, back, arms. Then they stood back and looked at their leader. “No injury there, where is it George?” 

“Um.. I don’t think you want to see where it is.” George tried to make out it was somewhere the straight edged men wouldn’t want to look. 

“Then why aren’t you resting, or limping about.” Hitler asked of him, calmly enough.

“Because, commitment, I didn’t want anyone to notice, I don’t like the fuss.” Richtofen stuttered, shaking in his boots.

“Fine, I believe you, for now. Get this cleaned up, properly, or I’ll be charging you for damage.” Hitler warned, making a money gesture with his finger and thumb and turning his back, he nodded to his soldiers whom saluted and George stood at attention shakily and saluted as they swiftly left, convinced enough, he hoped. 

The other couldn’t hear what was going on downstairs but they did start to hear talking again, very faintly. It must’ve been them still downstairs, arguing or arranging something, maybe saying their goodbyes. It didn’t sound too friendly when they registered a raised voice. “I hope he’s okay..” Franz worried, hearing the door slam shut and the clatter of footsteps move past the house louder, towards the next house along. 

“Fuck..” George rubbed his face in stress and brushed his hair back, sighing and taking a moment to himself, waiting till he was sure the soldiers were gone and definitely not nearby or eavesdropping before he went back upstairs slowly and made his way into the bedroom.

They could hear indefinite panting and thuds of footsteps entering the bedroom and soon the bed moved and the rug was pulled up, little streams of light escaping from the room through the cracks of the floorboards, into the crawlspace. Franz, Alan and David braced themselves, they couldn’t make out who it was but they’d heard the door shut again and footsteps lead away, they could never be too sure until… The floorboards were loosened and George’s face appeared and loomed over the gaps, undoing another and making the wide space to let them out. His face was reddened and he was breathing quite heavily, looking shaken up, his clothes were unsettled, not the neat fashion they’d usually be in.

“Phew..” David was relieved it was George and not an angry German face appearing, George held his ground clearly. But it looked to have been a challenge, George didn’t look too happy, nor unharmed. His shirt was only resting on his shoulder undone. Now he was going to have to come up with an alibi, possibly even purposely injure himself, in case they did come back with a ‘caught’ homosexual to check his story was true, or such. It worried him greatly, it’d fucking hurt that was for sure. And he’d have to brief them on the plan. 

Franz climbed out first, crawling to his feet and brushing himself off, the dirt and dust down there was almost unbearable, but nowhere near what it would be in a jail cell, he could be greatful of that. David was helped out and onto the bed next and then they both took Alan up and helped him to his feet, unsteadily. 

“What happened?” David frowned, George hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived to let them out, he didn’t look too good. 

“I’m a suspect now, they’re onto me. I’ve told them I have an injury well.. around my crotch and uh- I think they might come back to check. I don’t know what to do.. But I do know now none of us are safe. I don’t know how long we have until they come back but.. I don’t think it’s wise to stick around, unless I should harm myself t-there…” George looked worried, probably about harming himself there, and about the situation.

“Then we’ll have to either move, or we’ll have to leave, something…” Alan frowned, now it was getting tricky. But he was better than he’d been a few days ago. His wound had just about stopped weeping and been starting to close up, so he was alright to walk around now, still needing to rest according to Franz but if they had to move, they had to move. David was the only item of interest, he’d need to be helped around, with his leg and all. 

“We move, tonight.” David said sternly and suddenly, confidently. There was no sitting around for the consequence around here, it was far more brutal than England, different laws, a very fierce dictator, they couldn’t get caught or this’d all been for nothing. 

“I guess we have to.. Franz?” George asked, he couldn’t disagree but then he looked at Franz, he was an actual German, maybe one against Hitler’s rule, but a German, he could get away with it and never slip up, he’d done nothing wrong really. 

“I’ll stay, because if they return, they’ll know you’ve ran immediately. If I stay, that’ll give you more time to get the hell out of here, while you still can. I can make you an alibi, say you’ve gone out to a bar or something, if they return this evening.” Franz made a plan quickly, he was prepared to stay and keep his fingers crossed for no blame being put on him. 

“I have two days until the next march, the next time I actually need to show my face, so we have now until then, to get the fuck out of here.”


	23. Boundaries

“Go,” Franz warned George as he looked back from the doorway with a sad look, he didn’t want to go without his friend. They’d collected what they needed and were all carrying a light amount of stuff between them, sneaking out of this place was the first biggest risk and challenge of them all. George ran back to hug Franz and David and Alan were looking around paranoid, the soldiers could see them, any officer could come by and see them here. 

They patted another’s back and pulled away, “I’ll be fine, go.” Franz scalded his hesitance and rushed him out of the door himself, waving to them and shutting the door. Whatever happened next was on their backs now, they’d waited until late enough for everyone to hopefully be in bed, apart from a possible couple of drunk soldiers around, in bars and such. Midnight, it seemed the perfect time to sneak out, no word from the inspection crew again so they were in the clear, for now…

“C’mon, this way.” George told them quietly, walking along the path slowly and making sure to check their backs and ahead of them just in case. It’d be up to fate and luck now to get through this and find a way around being trapped inside this carnivorous city. 

“We could stay at mine for the night..” David suggested, he had an apartment hidden in the midst of poorer soldiers where Hitler rarely even stepped a boot past. The only commotion they had around there was vicious protests of either freedom or nazism, every morning, but it passed through. And the fact that the nasty contract killer had turned up to his apartment to kill him and Alan or take them away to a cell somewhere for the Gestapo to play with. Those were the only bad times in the months really, David could appreciate it for what it is and get on with his life. The rations here were slightly better than England’s for some reason, more stocked food, Hitler at least promised every person living here a meal and a job. The unemployment rate was non-existent before the war even began, he’d solved some real problems but then he was starting to get greedy when he started world war two for more land and violence. 

“Not if they’re already out looking for us.” Alan panted, clutching at his chest, he was able of movement now as their lives did depend on it, but he wasn’t in the fittest shape to rush around in the dark of the night, deep breaths bringing sharp shooting pains. 

“They must’ve already checked there.” David frowned, “Who said they’re looking for us. We didn’t actually do anything yet.” He pointed out, they’d been hiding in fear of being inspected by the most observant and skilled of detectives Hitler could send out to sniff out rats. It may show through the slightest twinge in unnatural accent, 

“Good point.” Alan sighs and goes along with easier answers for the saviour of his lack of breath, movement after little of such is tough, especially with an injured chest, bothering him more than even usual, still to heal entirely. But he cannot imagine how David is coping with his leg, that is worse to move around with than a dodgy chest. 

With the camp-esque seclusion and setup of the ‘privileged officer’ area made to evade the commoners, as the classes here and in this time were strictly divided with no blur of lines and laws whatsoever - the poor ate the dust and the rich ate the caviar here - it felt like sneaking out of an army base or camp for them all, dodging lights and public places like spotlights and guards were bound to be lurking. The streets were overflowing with drunk soldiers, officers and marching SS and possibly the odd cloaked standerby Gestapo looking for an easy target or suspicious foe for their leader’s appeasement but the likelihood of known faces being suspected or called out as anything to ground or pull in handcuffed was quite unlikely yet. Nobody knew of Hitler and Richtofen’s recent encounter, as far as all of them knew, Richtofen was one of the pets, the brown nosing crew. 

Now he had no doubt in his mind he wasn’t in his ‘Leader’s’ good books, and nor the favourite, he suspected even him and whether that was standard for him upping his searching game, it seemed the favourite touch had died down. Being at the top threatened of overhaul, invasion or assassination constantly could evoke such paranoia and anxiety that even close ones were suspects of the master survey. 

One by one, they strolled down the streets together, George helping David out with his stiff leg, technically out-of-action for weeks and after much walking, they silently settled on David’s nearby home and stepped inside quietly one after the other, finding the door had not been breached but the place had been turned upside down and the blood stains remained. There was a lot of cleaning up to do, but there was little point to even getting started. George settled for the sofa as David and Alan resided into the bedroom together, shamelessly, as George had pretty much hinted at his knowledge with offering for them to share alone time rather than one of them awkwardly being with him. All they did was clear space from the mess to where they’d lay and didn’t bother with anything else, Alan eyed the blood patches with a gulp and undressed habitually as did David, getting into bed and sighing, “What happens tomorrow?” With David’s level headed strategic mind always playing a good part in figuring one step from the next and his naturally dominant personality and planning ways being looked up to by George and Alan, they assumed him leader with no further discussion and asked upon him for plans. 

“We move.” David blurted out the obvious, rubbing his hands over his face, tired out from the short walk in itself, with his leg acting an obstacle, it’d taken a lot more energy to get from point A to point B tonight. And they were putting everything on the line being here in public realms, sleeping and becoming vulnerable. Anyone could’ve spotted them, anyone could find an officer with two soldiers, and it’d be game, everything would be there in evidence. Officers were barely allowed to interact with ‘common folk’, only orders were to be given by officers and they remained apart and the dominant string of forces to Hitler, apart from his private separate ‘pure-blood’ German militia, the SS, and his secret - but not so secret to potentials - Gestapo squad littering the streets. The rumours of mass torture and secret underground chambers went about quickly, it was unspoken about but everyone knew one way or the other to avoid getting into trouble for that risk. It self-advertised to stay clear and behaved, Hitler had mass power and dominance over who was in charge here, even by threatening and executing his own ‘kind’ as he’s refer, only allowing pure Germans to do anything helpful, and only at least German originated or half German civilians to remain. 

“Move where though? We can’t exactly leave.” Alan blurts out and then sighs, reaching for the bedside table where he’s left his cigarettes, making ever so gentle movements for them as to not strain himself or his chest, still stinging and complaining at him for moving whatsoever. “Berlin’s on lockdown, as is every German city, we’re not leaving David.” Alan isn’t as hopeful of any escape mission that David is plotting, which he doesn’t doubt the man is, that’s his motive, it’s as clear as day, smack bang in the middle of the night. 

“Somehow Alan.. Just-let me sleep on it, there’s always a way.” David sighs back, he doesn’t want to lose his own sense or hope in the matter or what leader would that make him? Not a very good one for that matter. Anyway possible is a way they’ll have to take. It isn’t as simple as walking away now they’re deeply embedded in the city, the army and the English have simply dropped them there to fend for themselves until the move is necessary or possible. But the bombing, it is a suicide mission really, all along, they don’t expect them to survive as equally as they send out only the best to have any chance. David has shown bravery and survived many fleeting moments in his career already, so he is trusted, as is Alan, under his hand only, he isn’t really to be credited for their mission’s success.


	24. Rallies

Five in the morning. Any other time or place in this world, would be a brittle aired, stilled and peaceful settling, with birds chirping and atmosphere slowly slumping up from its slumber all the same as the sun in the distant horizon. But not today, not in Berlin, not in any of the countries affected by the great depression that is the war, worldwide pretty much. Same in Britain, in America, Russia… A knock on effect.

Rallies outside the windows firing off warning shots and marching, shouting their rowdy hails to the manipulative dictator that is Hitler. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant atmosphere to be startled awake to, especially not being British, for even in England such hierarchy did not exist to scare somebody upright at even this stupid time in the morning. But maybe it was advantageous, they needed to sleep a little, and move a lot more. Before anyone found out their correlation as a group, or that any of them were guilty of anything, because sooner or later the workplaces that Duke and Alan once corresponded with would report their absence, and Richtofen unapparent for his line of duty would become alert even sooner so than that. 

“Alan.” Duke was the first one to rise, after one of the gunshots pierced his dream state quite literally and brought him into a cold sweat, gulping and gasping to himself in the aftermath of the night terror that’d envoked, for both of them, still shaken up as their own victim of the pain stricken gun wounds, Duke’s leg still weeping slightly, due to change his bandage, and Alan’s the same, but the doctor, Franz, had done pretty well patching them up as much as he could before their departure.

“Alan- wake up.” Duke shook his arm and tapped him, waking the sleepy soldier next to him, mumbling to himself and slowly lifting his head to look back at Duke with a confused squint.

“What?” He asks confusedly, yet to face the harsh reality of their surroundings and situation yet, but they can’t be dwindling on that right now, the dreams pleasant, but unrealistic to their utter urgency this morning, they need to get moving as soon as can be.

“Come on.” Duke simply answers, getting out of bed at once, after muffling one wince with an unpleasant grunt, or a few, as he stumbles to make his way up to a standing position, trying not to put pressure on his sore leg, but also trying not to lose his balance as he grasps to regain it against the bedside table and then grab his cane. “I knew this’d come in handy someday..” People always told him that dragging around all the miscellaneous items and baggage that he did was proposterous, and silly, but he carried items that he thought of in advance as something he may find himself using, a cane, in case he found himself in some crippling circumstance such as this. 

He turns on the spot and heads for the bathroom for a quick shower, the luxury he can foresee no further secure time to do so after this, he won’t know when he’ll next lay his sleepy head down and not worry of a pistol being drawn to his temple when he opens his eyes, or a knife to his throat, the threat of their problem now is high, higher than ever, and the rallies this morning do not promise open arms and patted backs of forgiveness, but of torture and pain to come. Hitler’s reign is no easy life, he promises policy that do somewhat steeple the bigger problems Germany faced, unemployment, money inflation, food and water, the basics. But his disadvantages, were far worse than what they’d already dealt with, racism, fascism, a strict and very right wing view that everyone had to abide. Right wing was always the far more extremist side, even extreme left wing authority wasn’t going to resort to such a regime as any right wing did, and the violence, their campaign, using males, guns, money and testosterone to win over the entire populus purely by the threat of the easily manipulated males getting what they want, threatening to protest and take action against anyone that did not agree with them. A fear tactic, fierce but it won, it worked scarily well. 

Luxuries are the least of their worries. Their hearts beating and eyes open are. There is already stirring in the other room, the clunk of boots, Richtofen is also awake and stumbling about himself, ready for what lies ahead, probably rudely awoken in the same way as Duke. Morning isn’t the time for lie-ins, for anyone to be anywhere nearby the early street marches of the fiercely for campaigners, the soldiers, this area being largely dominated by workmen and soldiers, it was bound to happen. Luxuries being the least, but Duke needs to be clean, and shaven, so he takes his chance, placing his cane aside when he reaches the shower, and stumbling in with little ease, holding onto the wall and then forcing his back against it, staring into nothing, letting the streams soak him. 

And to think, a few glorious mornings ago, he’d more or less been praising their success, and now, he was questioning it. In blurry eyed fury more or less. Fists clenched, teeth grinding, eyes speaking a thousand words more than his expressionless face. He can mask some emotions, and still does to the blind and incompetant of reading, but not something as strong and driving as this. He is infuriated, by what he has woken to, by what position him and his closest are being cornered into, they’ve separated people in two, taken his girl from him, he is on a mission. 

“Mornin’” Alan dressed himself and slowly makes his way out of the bedroom, gazing over at Richtofen sat on the sofa, tucking his trouser ends into his boots, changed into his officer’s uniform, which Alan questioned, “Why’re you wearing that?”

“Good morning.” Richtofen sounds just as deeply shaken and stirred as Duke is, speaking through clenched teeth of his own, staring straight ahead, not lifting his gaze to Alan, the tensions run high but not between any of them. Duke and Richtofen work differently from Alan. They’re both experienced in high lines of authority, leaders, and to get started on a day, they do not relax themselves and sigh into the stroll to work. They brace up their chest and hardened their gaze for the challenges of the day, whatever they may be. Chances wear slim here, how’re they to expect to survive? Hope is fading, but before it does, they must give it their best shot. “I have a plan.”

“And what’s that?” Alan hobbles further into the room and sits down across from him, wearing his own baggy work clothes, unaware it would come in handy to do so, just, on automatic of what this place and waking signifies. 

“Well, when David is here, I’ll explain.” George mutters to Alan, looking at him then, having to soften his gaze to allow a proper greeting. He forgets where he is for a moment. Usually at this time in the morning, he’d be on an automation of his own, and be stood before lots of goons and grunts, muttering their disliking of him, or thinking themselves wiseguys, he’d be marching and disciplining rebellious soldiers, so he was due to stiffen up, until he remember when he looked Alan’s way. A fellow englishman, not a German. 

“Drink?” Alan asks George, getting up again, clutching his chest weakly, trying not to strain his ribs too far, or puff out his chest, as it puts him at a major discomfort, and it may split his stitchings. 

“Coffee please, three sugars.” George answers, grabbing out a passport, his pockets contents, things he usually took to work, but he wasn’t looking to work today, he was looking to get things done, get them out of this mess.


	25. Regroup

“Lord, give me strength.” David mutters to himself as he rinses off and steps out of the shower finally, grabbing at the sides and sink for support as he dries his face and body with the other hand, towelling himself down and shaking out his dripping hair. He would need strength for more than just the will of what was to come, but for his own life, and his leg. It throbbed already, and he hadn’t even put pressure on it, but the pain, it’s something he could do without. 

Without gripping onto himself too much, he stood in front of the mirror and inspected his face, only feeling a slight stubble and deciding against shaving, he’d end up growing it out anyway, with the time he felt it’d take to emerge somewhere safe enough to wash again. No matter what, he felt and thought they were in the deepest darkest hole with this whole idea, but there was no other option. Richtofen had been breached of his own close trust with Hitler, and while that didn’t mean much to him in concern, it did mean more inspections, more spies, they’d end up getting caught out even sooner than their escaping plot would. 

Playing it off cool for as long as possible seemed the most viable option. David wasn’t too sure of any of it, he hadn’t gotten as far as how to cross the borders and make it past no man's land yet. Parachuting was his most comically idea, digging was just as insane, but those were the ways with the least chance of him being shot on sight. Either way, now all of them needed to get to the other side, it was their only chance of making contact with friendlies, where English and French troops were attacking the borders and patrolling in to hone in on villages, ultimately, suppressing all attacks and pushing the enemy forces back. West Berlin was where they wanted to be, where Hitler wasn’t. But East Berlin is where they’d been unfortunately relayed at the time, it was almost like, the English enforcers led them into a trap, putting them on the wrong side of the city on purpose. Sure. They were brave and valuable assets, but, even this was far too monstrous and crazy a mission for them, alone, no support, no way of contacting the outside world without either being infiltrated and found out first, which would lead to almost certain death anyway, or being ammo for Hitler to use as reason to fight back even more. 

“Nnnh..” David muffled a wince of pain as he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, removing his bandage slowly, but even that triggered unrelenting bounds of pain to shiver through his being. Alan caught on, he heard the distant groans of pain and got up, dismissing himself from conversation with a just as gloomy Richtofen for the moment and knocking gently on the door before he entered to assist David. 

“David, you shouldn’t be doing that, come in here.” Alan wraps David’s towel around his waist for him and leads him out of the bathroom, helping him into the lounge to prop him down against the sofa, so he can be aided and someone else can treat the wound and change his bandages. 

Richtofen immediately got up and came to his aid, leaving Alan to make them drinks as he grabs the first aid kit and gets out a fresh roll of bandaging wool and a new safety pin. It’s the best they can do out here, do the best with what you’ve got. He slowly and gently lifts David’s leg and starts to unravel the bandaging from his knee, letting him grasp his other hand in support, he knows the pain, he’s been injured in such a gruesome way before. David does try to tough it out, but this isn’t a matter necessary of that attitude, he’s shattered the bones in his knee, it’s going to hurt. 

“Bleeding is easing up at least.” Richtofen tells him, pulling the bandage off and inspecting the stitched areas on both sides, still intact and closing the wounds shut, only little dribbles of blood managing to leak out, but as the healing continues, the platelets of the surface will begin the scabbing and healing further. He knows a thing or two about science himself, Franz taught him some things, other things he’d picked up or already been educated of. It’s a pity really, they taught every soldier how to fire a gun, let off a grenade, arm explosives. But not how to disarm bombs, repair a gun or patch people up. Only selected medics were educated in that way, but it seemed crucial that everyone knew the basics. David did, Richtofen did, but through observation, and plenty of their own injuries. 

David’s eyes rolled in stubborn and fierce defense of the pain that he could not stop or ease anyhow, he tried, but he winced again as Richtofen touched at it and encouraged him not to, so he just grabbed the bandages and got on with it, wrapping them around tightly to compress the wound and keep his leg in place as much as possible. “Stay still.” Richtofen holds him down slightly, pinning it in place and then easing off, sitting back and making sure it was sturdy enough. He gave David space and breathing room, stepping back and going to put the first aid kit away. 

“Ah..” David sighs to himself, laying there eyes closed, taking a breather, composing himself. He almost let a tear out, but he was far too stubborn, and he didn’t want to cause as much fuss, he didn’t need them fussing him. He tried to bandage himself up but that didn’t really work out. 

“Here y’are.” Alan comes back with their drinks, placing David’s down beside him on the coffee table, Richtofen's too and then his own, rushing off to grab some painkillers and return to offer them to David, he takes a few out for himself first. “Take them David.” He advises as he sees the defiance, David turning his head away from the offer before he finally takes them and swigs them down with his coffee, shuddering and easing back. 

“Are you going to be okay for the journey?” Alan asks, looking up as George returns, and takes a seat next to him. 

“Yes, I have my cane, I’ll be fine.” David answers quietly, paled in the face, he won’t let this get in the way of anything, he doesn’t have any other option, or he may’ve been tempted to ask for another day to rest it off, Franz’ advice is finally getting through to him, it really does need to rest. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Alan asks George curiously, tapping his fingers impatiently, and seeming somewhat questioning and unsure of what the man could possibly have in mind, they seem hopeless right now.

“Well. I have a plan. It’s going to seem crazy, and it’s not entirely guaranteed to work, but it’s our only shot at getting over that border.” George starts, “First, we’ll need to visit one of my contacts in the base, I’m bringing you two in as visitors. If we go there, he’ll be able to forge us ID for West Berlin.” He explains, “We’ll need the stamps to pass as valids there or they’ll just push us straight back here”

“Then, we visit another one of my contacts. Rumour has it, they have a way in, and I’m not too sure how or what, but it’s worth a shot.” He mentions to them, “Now, you’ll be my prisoners for the day. We’re not wanted yet right? So I’m still an officer, which is why I’m wearing these, to get us wherever we need to go without questions.” 

“If we make it through and get to West, we can make our way to the borders and meet up with friendlies.” George concludes, that is what he has came up with so far, and it seems insane, unlikely, but it’s the best that’s been put forward. David has far more radical and opportunist ideas than them both so his are out of the question.

“I need to find Emily.” David looks at him now, rising from his laying position to sit with his leg propped, sipping his drink slowly. 

“Do you know where she is?” George asks firmly, raising a brow.

“No. But I will find her.” David answers firmly, looking his way sternly, he won’t back down from that, before they meet friendlies, he’s getting Emily, and she’s coming with them.

“We don’t have the time David, think about it, we’re already in dangerous waters here as it is, we need to get out of Berlin all together.” He argues to him, and Alan looks between them gulping, David isn’t going to back down, he knows it, and how much Emily means to him, but George is thinking practically, heart or not, David isn’t going to have the time to do both, he has to decide, one or the other?


	26. Debate

“George.” David sighs and shakes his head, looking away from him, “Have you ever.. loved someone?” 

“Yes but-”

“But nothing. I’m not going without her, I promised her that, I promised myself that. Alan promised to help me, so either, you come with us, or go without us, because I’m simply not leaving her behind, she’ll die out there, those men, they’re cruel.” David firmly states, adamant of his promise to Emily and sticking to it, a stubborn man, with no intention of changing that or budging for anyone else. He would go along with George’s plans for getting across, they were the least ludicrous and most credible so far, but he’d not be swayed from the main reasoning behind his trip to West Berlin. He didn’t have it in mind that he was going there to get to the border, not immediately, he wanted to find Emily. He had no idea where she was, or whether she was, still being, but he’d find out one way or another. They were situated in West Berlin for a short while, so it meant he knew where to begin looking, if Emily had decided to stick around.

“Okay.” George compromises and surrenders to David’s stubborn attitude, knowing the man wouldn’t give up, he’d quickly been introduced to an unbudging and hardened man, he knew there was no other way round it, it wasn’t going to be talking this man round finding his girl, or swaying from a promise. Loyalty at least, he could sit back and admire that, as insane as David was to remain in Berlin all together just to root around for her. “I’ll give you one day,” He speaks, looking him in the eye, “One day to find her, and then, I’m gone, I won’t be sticking around David, I’m an officer, they’ll put a far steeper penalty over a missing officer’s head than two government affiliates.”

“That’s all I need.” David takes George’s hand in a firm shake, and Alan is just left to watch them both come to terms, submissive to both ideas, he hasn’t the liquid courage these two males have, he isn’t much of a leader, more of a go along with the flock man. He’ll listen and persevere with whatever handed to him, and it’s best not to get involved in anything, he’ll only make it worse, those two are already seemingly starting to lose their nerve with each other.

“Have you got any rations?” George asks upon them both, looking towards the direction of the kitchen and back between them both, he is hungry, and god knows what they’re about to walk into, or when their next meal may be, he needs to stock up and restore his energy or he’ll regret it, he’s sure of that. Above all they’re facing a big hike, along the streets and wherever this journey did lead them. It wasn’t going to be as simple as walking from wall to wall, that was for sure.

“Enough for breakfast, yes.” David nods and gets up, wandering off to cram whatever he could together for breakfast for the three of them. It cannot guarantee to be anything as luxurious as George’s true meat stew was, or as flavoursome, but it’ll do, David tries to make it as nutritional as he can, knowing the importance of that set value over the taste, but there’s only so much he can do with starch and seasoning, maybe a few vegetables, the key element to it all.  
Stews and soups are a regularity around here, around all the countries affected by the war. Falling out with one country and initiating such heated affairs means falling out with many and scaring the rest off. And along with that, blockages, ports being guarded by opposing countries. Trade isn’t entirely possible, so they have to live off their own produce and make do with what’s available, which is why rations were even needed, food was short. 

Germany is recently recovering from a crisis of mass hyperinflation, it’s money in the late 20s, became utterly useless to anybody. A loaf of bread? Cost about the same as a whole house in England in the worst of the money error. Whomever thought it may be a good idea to somehow try to solve the problem of poverty by printing more money, just escalated it ten times farther into the deep end. But then there came the fellow Hindenburg with a financial executive and a great plan, replace the German Mark with Rentenmarks and slowly transfer the currency to balance it back out. In need of paying reparations for the first world war’s failure, a very steep demand from England and France for damages and lives lost but in all fairness, they did not start the blood shed.

David filled his largest pan with water and started to boil it over the stove, chopping vegetables and rummaging through his fridge and cupboard for whatever he could salvage for a decent stew. Anything he could grab he would, because they wouldn’t be returning to this wretched place again hopefully, all their rations were going to be used, waste not want not. In times of dear need and in means of survival, he has the mindset to be resourceful and use brain over brawn, knowing the importance of every last detail. He thinks carefully about what he’ll be carrying with him and what was to be left behind, or used up right now. 

“It’s not practical Alan.” George slams his fist against the coffee table, growing frustrated with the thought of being sitting ducks in such dangerous circumstances all for a woman. He doesn’t empathise with David in the way that the handsome fellow won’t just be able to return to England and then find a lady, he has more than enough chance they’ll be more fish in the pond for him, yet he is adamant, and George is not happy with the idea entirely, trying to reason with Alan instead. If he can get him on side, maybe he’ll be able to convince David, his secret lover, more than an almost foreign man will be.

“I know it’s not but he won’t leave her, I know he won’t.” Alan sighs scratching his stubbled chin and looking away from George, he isn’t for or against anything put into the plan, he can’t make his mind up, he’ll just go with it as it happens. But David has a dominance over him, he’ll bring him along as he mentioned, somehow. His plan has been set in mind long before George’s has, ever since they were split from West Berlin, David has been rambling like a madman about his anger and determination to reunite with her. He’s serious, he doesn’t think this a fling nor a means of suicide in risking his life, he wants to rescue her and then he’ll quickly retreat to his own.

“He cannot be reasoned with.” Alan is certain of that, there’s no changing his mind, he’s on a mission now. Every mission or task he has ever been challenged to has been made and met by him, he doesn’t back down, he doesn’t give in. Someone could be holding a knife to David’s throat and Alan knows he still wouldn’t say a word, he’s a very brave man.

Tapping the edge of the pan with the wooden spoon, he tastes the stew and nods to himself once, good enough. He found a variety of fresh vegetables that he’d bought last time for their stews, needing to be used, and perfect for their nutritional needs. He added a tin of beans for their protein needs, everything was under way, he knew what he needed, this was going to be the meal they needed for the journey. He grabbed out three bowls and filled them with the stew, coming into the lounge with one bowl balancing on his arm and the other two in each of his hands, balanced on his palms, sitting down slowly and setting them down on the table, spoons already in the bowl sitting in the stew ready. “Bon appétit” 

Scraping ceramics, clinking spoons, they eat in silence and hardly look at each other, all of them hungry enough to be wolfing down their stew and sipping their drinks here and there. David finished first and got up, “There’s enough for seconds if you want any?” He mentions to them both, he is satisfied himself, having a very full and large meal, but he just used up the rest of his unused ingredients so there was plenty more portions leftover. 

“Thankyou, I’m good.” Alan shakes his head and hands David his empty bowl when David offers to take it out, George pouts and thinks for a moment.

“No- I shouldn’t. Have you got a container? Maybe you could put it in there and we could take it with us, just in case.” George suggests and David nods, leaving to clean up the bowls, although it’d hardly make a difference now whether they left this place trashed or not. He decided leaving it neat would at least make the place look lived in, and not ransacked, if the soldiers came searching after them here, they’d assume the men were still around. But the bloodstains in the bedroom from their last encounter could be cover story enough, they’d gotten into trouble somewhere, presumably dead with the amount staining the floorboards and bedsheets.

“Why does he care about her so much?” George is persistent and rather rude about his means of practicality, he won’t give in either, not quite. Maybe he won’t straight up argue with David about it but he heckles Alan instead, an easy target to give him answers and perhaps lead him astray.

“He loves her.” Alan frowns, turning his head towards George, questioning the man’s intentions, “Isn’t that reason enough? Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Not if my life depended on being elsewhere.” George speaks rather coldly, he doesn’t value females as much, he isn’t wildly keen on the feminist idea. Alan looks at him funny and looks away, he can tell George would be the type of man to beat his wife, make her do everything for him, he seems very discerned by the idea of a woman meaning so much to somebody. But he is also just keen to live. 

“David wears his heart on his sleeve George, he cares about people, y’know?” Alan tries, but he’s not too sure he’ll be able to air their point of view without George counteracting it or failing to understand, two different kinds of people out here. While George seems more friendly and sociable up front, he hasn’t got a great personality Alan now determines, he is empty inside. David seems colder and more likely to give someone the cold shoulder if they need his help, but he is entirely the opposite, he’s driven and sets his jaw, but he’ll turn his truck around and drive straight back if someone needs him, he is loyal to his word.


	27. Identification

“Just keep your heads down.” George whispered to both of them as they started to swiftly head down the street, or as efficiently as they could manage with David’s leg in a state, he was learning to not pressure it and use the walking stick quickly. They had an advantage of starting earlier in the morning to get a lead on where they headed and more of a side with the soldiers, if they’d bump into any military or authority along the way, they’d miss the officers hopefully, later risers than the shallow grunts of the lower ranks. Which meant George would have an override over most of them and get into anywhere he needed, if they hurried up and got over to the base.

David and Alan followed his lead, aware to just keep their heads down, noses out and only speak when spoken to, it was a role both of them could play well with what they’d been through together. Neither of them were particularly assertive in speech anyhow, they’d only kick up a storm if someone really did knack to wind them up, or threatened them in any way shape or form. By the sounds of this plan, that could be a potential hazard. Soldiers liked to kick and degrade ‘prisoners’, embarrass and humiliate them in front of their fellow buddies to earn some cred, it was sick enough, but this was German, home to an extremist right wing party and point of view. Anyone playing roles particularly dedicated to the government’s wishes would obviously be of the same influence and idea as them, therefore, shouting racist slurs and sharing sexist views, a new terror race in other words. 

This was no place for an Englishman. No place for anyone of any other culture, view or affluence in society. There was an idea set about that only purely bred and true Germans were to be about in this country, and that was a big ask, considering Europe was a joined continent with trading links and such, people drifted from one country to the next as they pleased. But Germany no more. Nor Poland, and Czechoslovakia. Anywhere near by was quickly being seized and forced into Hitler’s regime, an insane power hungry man with a plan, it didn’t look like it was going to fail either, it made many gulp; he wanted to invade the world.

Entering the grounds of the military base was shudder-worthy in itself, David and Alan were keeping their heads down and gaze averted, even though at this point, they were still only meant to be government officials being brought in on business, they still didn’t want to double step any boundaries or give themselves away. Soldiers were generally and typically unpleasant, bitter people, and not to be interacted with unless you were one of them. If only they knew. David had the strength and knowledge to take many of them down with one punch, also soldiers, but not from the same side. Their mission was dangerous, a suicide mission really, but they were still holding on, somehow, gliding through with whatever they could.

Fresh dustings of snow coated the pathways, partially cleared out by the scraping of metal shovels nearby, low rank soldiers on discipline were ordered to clear them out enough for the regiment to travel and in and out freely and safely. Jeeps driving by slowly and steady ascending the slippery slopes, scraping by and carrying either officers or important figures. Standard soldiers didn’t get their own mode of transport, everywhere was on foot, in their metal capped and uncomfortable dress boots. Many gained blisters and sores from those blasted shoes, but it was all a part of dress code, strict form and order was retained in a military force. Uniform and formality, but the ranking system didn’t work all too well, while it was competitive, it got to the higher ranked soldier’s head a bit too much and there was a lot of rivalry and conflict in the army, which could dissolve teamwork and make the team less effective in trade. David was a lone wolf for a reason, working in many missions with grunts, who he’d instruct clearly and well, and would all end dead or fleeing, or caught, and he’d be left to crawl through it himself. Which is why he earnt his medals for bravery, and his ranks. In the best of terms, David was actually a higher rank than George in their military, just not in the German one.

“What’s your order?” Another officer was already holding court post and stopped them in their tracks, recognising George and his rank and addressing him personally. He knew Richtofen, but today he wasn’t on base duty, he was meant to be out on march and rally run. 

“To speak to the identification officer, on Hinderburg’s grounds.” Richtofen spoke in his fluent German, they all had to retain their German identities out and about, and make no mistakes. One word out of place, one slip up of an accent could have them caught or in a worse position, dead. He produced his ID and let the officer flick through it, tapping his foot, holding his hand out waiting for him to let them through.

“Where is the signed document?” The officer asks and looks Richtofen’s way firmly, not as easy as he thought, he hadn’t met this officer before, but they’d seen each other around briefly. Quite a tough nut to crack by the looks of it. He wasn’t missing a single detail.

“No signed documents, but I can get it on telegraph if you need it?” Richtofen spoke back, raising a brow, the officer was fully aware that’d take some time and knock him off his post for at least twenty minutes, and nobody knew when a higher rank would turn up or even Fuhrer himself. 

“Go ahead.” The officer sighed and turned his back to them instead, marching on forth to address more soldiers tossing back and forth with supplies and such, the morning was a chaotic one around the base, foods, ammunition, guns being brought in and out, soldiers and rallies about the streets. Crates and such being heavy lifted and carried in and out, the amount of treading going on was melting the most of the snow and ice around the main areas of the barracks.

Richtofen lead the way into the base and kept David and Alan on close tow, only sighing to himself when they were out of the way of that cautious officer and walking down the hallway towards the ID official’s office, that was a close one, but then he didn’t say this was guaranteed to work, or going to be easy. At the moment they were at quite a high level of risk being in the middle of a base, if they were ratted out or caught by anybody, there’d be no escaping for them.

“Come in!” A voice came as George rasped the door and waited, opening it and nodding for the two of them to go ahead, shutting the door behind him and also locking it. To the officer’s surprise, whom he knew very well, but he still had to be careful. 

“Albert, I need you to do me a massive favour.” Richtofen got straight into, placing his palms flats on the desk, remaining standing and serious, but not speaking too loudly, he didn’t want people eavesdropping, and he didn’t know whether there was enough trust between him and Albert, this was a test to their friendship in the force so far, loyalty went between them, they’d already got each others backs when they almost got into trouble. It came in handy having a good friend in the legal documents department, George knew it would someday, if he felt threatened somehow and needed to escape.

“Whatever do you need George?” Albert asked quieter, eyeing the other two men with a level of suspicion, “Who’re they?” 

“This is Duke, and this is Alan, they’re in with the government force.” Richtofen introduced them both, gesturing to them, holding their ID Badges in sight for the officer to inspect first, a mutuality needed to be established quickly, or they may not win him over enough for him to do what he about to for them.

“I need identification for West Berlin, three. For I, and these two.” Richtofen got straight to the point, he wouldn’t dance around the fact.

“Why on earth are you going over there? There are Russians, and-and French.. It’s dangerous George.” Albert wasn’t so concerned about the real question of this all, why was he going there in the first place, but the danger it included. Over in West Berlin, more bombings and conflict was being created, a true warsite on that side of the wall. 

“It’s for business, private business. I need to get over there by tonight. Can you do that?” Richtofen didn’t want to explain much, he wouldn’t go into specifics, and he knew enough that Albert shouldn’t ask too many questions about that.

“Today? I- that’s.. I mean, that’s really risky, I could lose my job.” Albert’s eyes grow wide, “Let alone if anyone finds out.” It was illegal as it was to own the wrong identification for sides of Berlin, whom ever was comissioned one side or the other, had to remain that way.

“Don’t sign it off on the records. Please, Albert, I need this done. I’ll owe you one.” Richtofen blags it off and pleads with him, knowing he is considering it at least, the way he looks thoughtful and taps his fingers, lets his pen dance across his fingers, he’s debating with himself. Albert could end up locked up or dead if he was caught going against code like this, but he already owed Richtofen a favour for the last time he’d gotten him out of harm’s way, and many other soldiers in the same position. His friendship with the Fuhrer and close connections went a long way, he was a valuable asset for anyone to be owing of, Richtofen could bend rules and get things done, whatever it may be. He had more authority than some of his highers, simply because of that fact.

“Just- okay. Give me ten minutes, and your passports. You’ll need to watch my back, make sure nobody comes this way.” Albert speaks shiftly, he gets up and takes each of their passports, going into the next room from his via a side door and leaving them to fend for his absence for the while.


	28. Corrupt Society

“It’ll come of more use to you than me, thank you Albert, see you around.” George took the passports from him and inspected them, his fine handiwork made it look effortless considering he’d only spent a minimal ten minutes in the back scratching out the last stamp and replacing it with one for West Berlin. But that’d mean they’d need to hurry on out of here now, they were legally obliged to West not East. In trade he placed down his rations book and left him with most of his coupons, he didn’t feel he’d be getting much further with them anyway, he wanted out of this place tonight, or as close as it could come to that, and god forbid he become stranded and end up needing that book after all. 

David and Alan followed George out into the hallway and nodded goodbye to Albert in turn, striding quickly away from the department, even being caught in here could land them in some trouble if someone that authorised Richtofen to be elsewhere turned up, or even worse, Fuhrer himself. He was already suspicious of George and did not know the officer was working with two of his ‘government officials’ so it’d be a big story and huge lie to try and tell on the spot, rather avoid that all together. Alan held David’s arm and kept him steady, wearing a well padded shirt, vest and coat, bandaged heavily just in case his wound did decide to seep anymore, he wouldn’t want it coming through his clothing at any point. It’d be a draw of attention, and slow them down. There wasn’t much room for leisure or slip-up here, their plan remained, out of East Berlin this morning, before people were up and about, and before they could be sniffed out for guilty intentions. 

The three of them were on edge throughout the entire stroll out of the base, being eyed by various soldiers, chattered about under breaths, some giving Richtofen glares, but in a risk to their own wellbeing really, he’d be able to kick their head in if he wished, there wasn’t much rule against using brute force to gain authority out of soldiers, especially below his rank. Once they got over the wall, if they got past it, there’d be a switch in authority then. Because Richtofen was known in East not West, and that was in fact David and Alan’s friendly territory, where they knew the soldiers, locals, officers and ran the mark. They’d been missing for a while but they still had more connections over there than here. Rentenmarks were virtually useless to them, but they could get their hands on some money if needed, whatever it may be. 

While they walked, Alan and George were collectively thinking about the route, and the escape. But David was caught up in his own daydream, hobbling along, having to watch his feet to make sure he didn’t slip on any ice. That’d would not be pleasant to say the least, nor any good for his already hanging, battered leg. He shouldn’t have even been walking now, but without applying pressure, and trying to move it as little as possible, he could risk it. Along with a whole cocktail of painkillers, he was relatively quiet and didn’t give a peep while the other two were talking logistics, rather thinking of his Emily. And the things he hadn’t told the other two. His rush to find her wasn’t for no reason, there was a strong urgency to it and he’d been doomed when he was separated from her, because he was keeping her safe, and now he had no idea where she was or whether she’d have the wit to keep indoors and keep her head down. Let alone not just fleeing and finding another man, that made him gulp, the thought of that, shudder-worthy, but he could not imagine her leaving him, not his Emily. It wasn’t possible, there was something there, he knew it.

Either way, he wouldn’t bite her head off for sleeping with another man, or woman, either way worked for him, because he hadn’t exactly been clean himself. Their relationship was in early days when they were dragged apart, but not without kicking and screaming, there was a sense of semblance in feelings in both of them, and the fact that both of them had been hurt by being peeled from one another. David didn’t even think purely in that direction, but his duty to protect her at least, he wanted to care for her, even if they’d move on after this, even if it didn’t work out, he needed to get her out of this country safely, and quickly. 

“Verstecken waren wir?” Four soldiers were dragging a family from their house and onto the streets, two of them manhandling one fighting man, a lady crying and three children screaming and sobbing, thrown onto the floor in the middle of the street, being circled by the soldiers, shooting off their guns in warning, or just to be plain cruel. It caught David more than the other two, simply walking by, keeping their noses out because there was little that could be done there, they were supposed to play the part, harshen their exterior, agree with this kind of behaviour in these lands. Harsh reality indeed for the more left-wing society the three had grown up in, where difference in personality, and behaviour was more controlled and morally acceptable than here, or many more extremely political countries like Russia. Even David, a brave soul, gave a shudder and wince to ever having to live under Stalin’s regime, and the chance of him dying there? Almost likely he’d die within his first few weeks, the men killed their own, for betrayal or falling back on orders. Far stricter than even Hitler’s grand scheme of things in Germany. 

The mother of the children stumbled down and fell to the floor next to her children, laying in the cold snow with barely anything on, or not nearly enough for this climate, no jackets, shoes, they must’ve been freezing out here. The other two soldiers were beating, kicking and spitting on the father, bruising and pulping him for fighting back, until he was still, unconscious and only quivering against the ground, fresh blood leaking into the white snow, dripping from the man’s head. Brutality. It wasn’t right, it certainly wasn’t necessary. Soldiers using their tags to do such a thing to civillians. David then saw the star of David dangling from the mother’s neck and slowed in his tracks, making George and Alan wonder and stop themselves, turning their head back and gesturing for him to come but he didn’t. He clutched the end of his wooden cane firmly and started to limp over to the scene instead, a fierce look in his eyes, anger bubbling in his chest, ears and cheeks redenning the more heated he became as he stormed towards them. 

“Stop! Stop!” David shouted and caught the soldiers attention’s, standing in front of one of them holding a rifle, smacking the child with the butt end of it, to prevent him from doing so. “Fuhrer did not ask you to kill them here, did he? Out in the streets? That’s what the camps are for right?”

“Out of the way sir, this is our business.” One of them charged towards him and threatened with his rifle, watching David lift his one free hand in surrender to the weapons mercy, but not entirely with his fierce tongue. Alan and George had started to walk again, but they realised David hadn’t followed, and before Alan could stop him, he was over there in the middle of the scene, making an example of himself, and something stupid, ordering about soldiers as a civillian, not a good idea.

“That is none of your business, back away!” The soldier holding the rifle continued to point it at David and he lowered his hand and turned his head towards him, looking him in the eye, showing no fear whatsoever, he set his jaw and waited. One of the soldiers came up behind David and smacked his injured leg with their gun and Alan and George gasped and shouted for him, he needed to stop, he shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place, he’d land himself in serious trouble. 

“Rrr..” David gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, falling to the floor and clutching at his leg, but nothing more, as much as he was internally screaming, and face planted in the snow, his eyes were rolling in pain, but he wouldn’t give them that victory. The soldiers laughed and kicked the snow around him, grabbing their victims, and marching off with them towards the nearest camp intake, leaving David fallen. 

Alan and George came rushing over when it was safe to do so and George shouted after the soldiers, “I’ll be reporting this to your squad officer!” He threatened and they continued to laugh, ignorant, insane, brainwashed nazis. They were wearing the red armbands, resembling the symbol chosen for the reign, it spoke for itself, extremists. Probably some of the right hand men of the man himself, by the looks of them and their different uniform. SS men perhaps, which is probably why they didn’t flinch to Richtofen’s threats, they found it amusing, what? Tell the Fuhrer they’d been kicking and beating Jews? It wouldn’t make him flinch would it?

“Ahah-ah..” David tried to lift on his own and was met with a fresh wave of pain, through all the painkillers, the fresh blow had knocked the air out of his lungs, and smacked him with a new level of agony, struggling for breaths against the snow as Alan rushed to his side and started to try and help him lift up.

“Come on David, we need to get off the road at least.” Alan hated to budge him in so much pain but he at least needed to move from the middle of the road in case any jeeps or military transport came by. David tried to hide the pain on his expression, but it showed in his eyes as Alan managed to get him up and almost carry him to the kirb, and then to a bench nearby, settling him down upon it and handing him his cane. 

“What were you thinking?” Alan asked in a serious tone, holding his shoulder, sitting next to him and letting him take a rest, he looked like he needed it. Especially after they saw that direct blow to his leg, that could not’ve been fun in the slightest.

“I can’t- stand th-there an-and do nothing..” David was still gritting his teeth, holding his head, and his leg, rubbing it lightly, as if it’d help. He felt as though he’d split his stitches, the wound felt hot and fresh, but he’d only know if he checked, and right now, here in the middle of the street was not the time for it. 

“Yes but- you have to- out here it’s cruel, but you’ll get yourself killed if you do things like that.” George interjected and came to kneel, touching at David’s leg and rolling up his trouser leg, “Are you able to walk?” He asked, touching at the tender areas very gently, as to not pain him any further but just check, and he inspected the bandage, it was heavily and well wrapped this time, thicker and more sustainable for their journey, so no blood was seeping through the layers yet, if it was still bleeding or had started to again because of that strike. He dropped the trouser leg and stood up, brushing off his knees, looking around them just in case.

“Yes, come on- just, I’ll be fine.” David ignored what George said, he wasn’t that kind of person, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to such cruelty, especially not when the reasons behind it were phoney. That family hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet they must suffer? Rumour had it, that the Jewish people were paying for Hitler’s grief of his mother’s death, and how he blamed the Jewish nurse for not tending to her properly. Bitter, senseless, insane man, terrorizing a whole culture of people because of one of them, and it couldn’t have been as done as that, that she did not try or neglected her patient. Serious case of the blame game by the looks of it.


	29. Truths

David had to be saying his prayers for the soldiers not resorting to any stronger violent offense to his objection, and he was under his breath, cursing it all the while that he should have to fear them when he could’ve easily taken them down and let that family free. If his leg wasn’t completely out of action and he had been able to run away had it been a problem, he would’ve given it his best shot and taken down at least one group of wrongdoers before their ultimate departure from this brainwashed wasteland of psychopathic super breed, Hitler’s children. However he had managed it, the whole populus apart from the straight thinking open minded few, were completely enthused by the man and his ideas and ate up every word he gave, rallies or not. 

Bit by bit he had undermined the entire German government and overhauled it until he could have it as his own entire army. And that’s exactly what he had which is what made it even more the serene and mind boggling atmosphere for anyone outside those realms in the times of that process. For these Englishmen now entering such dark and dangerous territory, to witness it first hand was just as eye-opening as it was terrifying. There was little to no hope for the ones that he already had his finger around, the way in which the impact was made, their minds had been played. 

“In here you two.” George muttered to them both as they came to a crawling stop outside of a block of apartments, run down and almost derelicted looking. David just frowned and shrugged, going along with it while Alan was always the more curious and vocal soul, he had to ask more rather than just keep his mouth shut and follow the plan. If this was where George meant, then there didn’t need to be another interval for exchanges, just go along with it; No. Not Alan.

“What is this place? Do people actually live here?” He asks George following slowly, cautiously searching the windows for any recognition or sign of life. Hardly the place they’d expected to be this morning, a few weeks beforehand, or even on their long trailing walk here. With David gritting his teeth and moving on with the cane firmly gripped, they’d managed and long passed the brutality of earlier, well not all of them of course, David had to keep quiet and chew his tongue while powering through the throbbing and shooting pains, but he’d rather that than any more stops, they couldn’t afford to be sitting around for any longer. 

Ideally, if they did have a few more weeks spare, of no suspicion and more time to plan and arrange this whole situation, then that would’ve been leapt upon as first choice. David’s leg could heal, or at least make more of a recovery than a few minute days and lots of bandaging, Alan’s chest also could’ve at least scabbed over and began to pain him less, reduce the swelling and aching and make them more mobile, faster. But that was not the case, this was pretty much life or death for them, they could not afford to be in anyone’s crosshairs out here, because the close inspection would reveal their secrets one way or another. Just when they thought they’d not be being watched, they would be, and that would be them, the dog’s dinner. 

“Does it matter?” George spoke shortly and quietly, keeping his voice down as did Alan, as if they wanted to even stupidly attempt to communicate in their native language, they’d have to keep a close eye on what they were doing with that move. Being caught speaking another language could mean their heads on a plate, just the same as anything else out of the ordinary could. The norm that’d been set in society here was far stricter than they were used to back at home, one step out of line, one interest different from another’s, one taste slightly differing from the nation’s path, and you were suspect. From there on life would be lived in a painstaking voyeurism, of neighbours, authority, even perhaps friends, keeping tabs on you. Hitler didn’t need surveillance or any of the fancy gadgets available years on from now, he had the people and that was all he needed, the finest currency on Earth.

They came to a large double set door, kicked in and hanging off it’s hinges. But George didn’t bat an eyelid, he simply swung it open forcefully and let it drop to the floor, looking around and gesturing for them to follow. This building was located close enough to the wall for it to make sense to be the place George had been talking about, but the lack of people, sound and atmosphere here did seem off. It looked like the place had been raided. But just saying that, they climbed a set of creaking stairs, the only thing breaking the eery silence apart from their rhythmic footsteps and sharp breaths, and travelled a long dirty hallway, coming to the end and knocking on the end door. 

Minutes passed and it didn’t seem there would be anyone there but then George knocked again in pattern and the latches sounded, the door inching open as a pair of eyes stared out. “What?” Came a frightened and suspicious sounding voice, a thick German accent, but from a female. 

“It’s me, Claudia. It’s George.” He spoke softly back to the voice and a small gasp came and then the door swung open and before them, George was tugged in by his lapels and the other two were left to follow them in. David just pouted to himself and stepped in, averting his gaze respectfully when he saw what the whole ruckus was about, the woman was holding George in a strong kiss, not one of a relative, rather romantic. Alan seemed more amused and nudged David, shutting the door behind him, waiting patiently until they had latched away and George was blushing slightly, however looking a little smug.

“Oh where have you been..” Claudia gasped as she pulled back and brushed his cheek, searching his eyes, “My George.. I thought you’d never come back.”

“Work darling, you know how it is.” He brushed off and straightened up, in front of those two, he didn’t flash about with anymore romanticism, he had been quite blunt earlier on about his views, he wasn’t as cold shouldered as he’d spoken, he did know what love felt like, and here it was. “What happened to this place?” 

“The soldiers. They raided the place. Turns out most of the residents here were Jewish.” Claudia explained with a big shrug, “They tried to take me too. I almost couldn’t convince them I wasn’t one myself.” Then she turned her gaze to the two guests and raised her brows, seemingly eyeing David in a gathered smile and Alan in the same manner. “Who are they, George?”

“Two friends of mine. Listen, we need to get out of Berlin.” He cut straight to the chase and she almost smacked him she turned around so fast and responded in the manner he’d expected.

“Why on earth would we need to do that? You have a job here, this is our home?” Claudia demanded and took a stand, she was born German and had always lived here, but she wasn’t into the politics currently, more normal minded than most of the residents around, and completely sickened to the stomach by the drama of the Jewish and minorities being swept away so suddenly and so soon. 

“That’s just it- I’ve made a mistake, I feel they’re onto me.” George tapped his foot and crossed his arms, “I think I’m next on their offing list, I need to leave. So do these two.” Of course Claudia knew he was English, but he had hardly and rarely spoken much of it and what was actually going on, the intent, the mission asides living here, which is all she saw, Englishmen making a horrible mistake. But she didn’t know they were actually here to interrogate and send off intel. 

“But- what about my house, my belongings? I can’t just up and leave.” Claudia looked around, there wasn’t much of value that any of them could see, but uprooting and dragging her along seemed to shake her a bit, the thought of stepping foot outside of Germany for the first time in her life.

“Listen..” George grabs her by the wrists and pulls her close again, sliding his hands up to her cheeks, “We can start afresh, in a new country, new town, new house, just you and I.” He whispers, “But I cannot stay here any longer darling, and I didn’t want to leave you behind, or at least not without a goodbye, and to attempt to convince you to come. It’s entirely up to you, stay here, but I’m going.”

“Okay..” She gulped and took in every word, looking bewildered but she made a sure choice, “I’ll come. Just let me get a few things together at least.” She mumbled and rushed off into the other room to pack a few things for the journey.

David was waiting for her to disappear and then he approached George and eyed him, not even needing to speak, before his point was made. “Where after this?” He asked instead of what was to inevitably come of this encounter, that George in fact had a loved one to tag along and pull from this rubble of a country before they left, all the same as David, and yet protested his needs while going to scoop up his own lady first. He felt angered by that, but also respectful, he couldn’t start to fault him now for rescuing his girlfriend from this place, but he did feel sour about their disagreement being over exactly that, but of his own story. 

Alan just stood further back and out of the picture not knowing whether David would have regained the patience to deal with this without landing a punch. He was a man of little words but anything and everything that was said was meant, to it’s maximum potential. His initial motive did not need to be announced before he acted, therefore it made more of an impact when applied. That’s the way he left it, able to always express himself with no where near the effort other people made it look to need. But he seemed to handle this one with a level of maturity, and just kept his nose out of George’s business despite the earlier conflict of opinion. Now David could tuck this into his pocket as a strong argument for what could come next, and use it when most efficient, for what he needed to do before they met with their own.


	30. Tunnel

“That was wrong.”

“What?” 

“You know.”

“I do not.”

“Think about it numbnuts.” Alan slowed to walk with David again, holding the man’s arm in his as to aid him in his slow push along the pavement, struggling with his cane slipping against the icy sheen covering the tiled walkway. Both of them were silently cross with George however silent to bring it up as he walked ahead with his missus’ carefree.

“Why did he do that?” David finally spoke, seething, speaking through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know, he is selfish?” Alan muttered back, more humbled and shy than David.

“I got that. I mean. Why did he have this whole argument with me if he knew he had the same problem?” David sighed and almost slipped, catching himself on Alan and wincing ever so quietly, muffling himself, his leg wasn’t doing so well, not with this weather.

“Selfish. He is taking care of himself and his concerns, not ours.” Alan mumbled to David and averted his gaze ahead of them once more. 

No usual stroll through a snowy town, but rather tense. Tension in the air between the two stronger dominant males of their little collective. David’s eyes burned towards the back of George, clenching his jaw, holding his breath, biting his tongue to stop himself from the confrontation he was edging towards. Hold it in David.

George had pretty much stuck himself in a position now, where he would have no other reason but to come along and help them find Emily. They had swooped by to save George’s missus’ so what would stop him from returning the favour?

“This way.” George called back to them as he turned into an alley and started to stroll down it until he stopped halfway, at the front door of a dingy looking flat. Number 67. He knocked once in a rasp and waited patiently as David and Alan caught up and waited too. Nothing? It took a minute or two before someone came to answer and only looked out through a crack in the open door.

“What do you want?” Came an unfamiliar voice, obviously a shifty character with the amount of bolts on the door undone before he’d even swung the door open. For a moment there was a kerfuffle between them and the man tried to close the door but George kept his foot inbetween it, he noticed the officer’s uniform. “I’m not here to arrest you.”

“I want access” George said simply and the door was eased open and they were encouraged to enter quickly, shuffling them all in and quickly closing and bolting the door behind them. Because they were all ‘West Berlin’ pass holders in the East side it wasn’t as easy as approaching the wall and telling the officers, because they’d kill them for trespassing.   
“Tunnel yes?” The man asked and guided them down into his basement space, a long stairwell curving round into the concrete room, pulling a string and a dim flickering light came on. 

“Yes.” George answered and followed the man, holding Claudia close to him, not even looking back at David and Alan hobbling along down the stairs behind them. 

“You are not with military?” The man asked once more and eyed him suspiciously, the uniform gave him the chills, and set off alarm bells in his head. If he was caught with this tunnel, he’d be killed, tortured, a whole amount of things, fates could come of him if the military discovered it. Along with a panic in West Berlin for who may be phony. It would just cause chaos. 

“I am an officer. But I want to get to West Berlin.” George spoke firmly and decided to use his authority to his advantage, just in case this man was having second thoughts. 

“Money?” The man waited and George produced an envelope from his jacket pocket, thrusting the envelope into the man’s hand and watching him check and flick through the bills. “It’s all there.”

“Okay.” The man nodded and slipped the money into his own pocket, turning to start budging a table from the middle of the room and then roll a carpet back to reveal a trapdoor underneath. Smart enough, but still able to be detected. Putting the table on top was a good disguise. So if the militia ever did decide to investigate this place they may not check underneath both. But even then.. it was a huge risk. Standing on the carpet where the wooden hollow doorway lied would create a creak, and on this concrete floor, would instantly be obvious.

“How far is it?” George asked first and the man shrugged and just gestured to the doorway, as he opened it up and there was a ladder leading down into the manmade tunnel. It must’ve taken years to dig this, let alone maintain it’s secrecy.

“Where do we get out on the otherside?” George asked as he made for the hatchway and dwindle to check.

“In a bar. Once you get there, knock six times, someone will let you out. You go down the hallway and take the first left and leave quickly, I would not wait around, we do not want to draw suspicion to this.” The man explained as George nodded and then understood, he turned back to the rest of them.

“Okay?” George asked.

“We’re ready.” David said firmly, hard eyes on George, they’d be having a proper chat once they were out of this mess, or at least out of the tunnel. 

George guided Claudia to go first and went after her, descending the ladder slowly and dropping down into the tunnel, just tall enough to stand in and walk through, the walls were thin, a claustrophobic space but their only option. George gazed ahead and heard the eery echo of their footsteps, this was long, miles perhaps, maybe less. It was going to take a long, exhausting while either way.


	31. Tunneling Out

“It’s quite claustrophobic down here, don’t you think?” David muttered to Alan as they descended the ladders and looked up to see the foreign man nodding once and reaching after them to hand Alan a small torch before he was shuffling to replace the hatchway and cover of the carpet and table. Good thinking because without the torch it would be pitch black in here and they did not know how long this tunnel could go on for. 

“Indeed.” Alan gulped and held his palm flat against the wall as he steadied himself and then tapped George’s shoulder to hand him the torch. If him and his missus’ would be swanning off ahead of them like they had been then they may as well lead the way. Himself and David would tag along behind at a humble pace while Alan supported David and his weak leg. 

He grabbed David’s forearm and guided him to wrap his arm around Alan so he could elevate his leg more so and use both the sturdy walking stick and Alan for support. The ground proved unstable and bumpy so he may need that little bit more to keep him going. For the rest of them this was a trek enough, let alone trying to do it with near enough one leg to take all the weight. If only they had another option…

Positives. Think about positives. Hmm. Well they wouldn’t be too concerned if an air raid did siren off above them as they were underground anyway but that also left for the afterthought of, would this place collapse on top of them. It was a homemade tunnel clearly and they owed credit to whomever had spent all this precious time and energy carving an illegal yet useful path into the West of Berlin. Why the Germans would need that leeway was quite unclear but then again, there could be many reasons. When the wall was built many families were separated. Coal miners and poor assets were left to inhabit the dangerous West side of Berlin where the war and bombs were hitting them hardest. It was an entirely different environment on the other side and the men had yet to realise that. East Berlin seemed like a hell of it’s own but West was stricken and impacted far worse. Rubble and corpses everywhere. More violence and protest. Officers everywhere herding large numbers of people into shelters or shooting them on sight. It was an oblivion unlike any other.

Doctors and richer assets were taken aside and pulled into East Berlin as a value to society more so than the West where the British and French troops were slowly but surely bombarding and invading through. Tanks and friendly faces coming in hot. It wasn’t exactly a great place to be headed for the reason of how dangerous this task was but the main outcome if met, was to escape. 

“This is tough.” David huffed and stopped for a moment while George and Claudia kept on patrolling ahead talking amongst themselves. It was a surprise George did have a girlfriend as it is really. Such a crude and selfish man as him was not expected to be so well off. David could not judge whether Germany and the environment and role George had was affecting him or whether he was genuinely that offish. He thought practically of course. At the end of the day, it was about surviving more than anything else and George had the right mind for grabbing everything and running for the light. But David was thinking with his heart. He was a very passionate, loyal man and would not rest until he found his Emily again. 

Alan knew this was the case already and did not dare lift a finger to that either. He did not argue with the man as he did empathise and did not agree with George’s apathy and way of handling this. Show a little respect for a fellow Englishman? George had done enough to save them from the grasp of death itself and keep them safe in those rough and close cutting moments but he clearly did not have the heart for David enough to help him anymore. 

“Oh…” George and Claudia stopped suddenly as David and Alan slowly caught up with them and stopped behind them with matching frowns. 

“What?” David piped up behind George and made him turn and incline his head. 

“Look.” George gestured to the tunnel and the predicament, there were four different pathways from here in similar directions but did they all lead the same way? All the right way? The man had not mentioned this or gave them directions so which one would they choose?

“We’ll have to split up.” George said firmly and looked between all of them at once, four tunnels, four people, it was the only way to guarantee and waste no more time figuring it out. But what was the means of communication, what would happen if they split off and one of them got hurt or ran into trouble?

“Don’t be stupid. We’ll just have to go with our instinct and choose one, hope for the best.” Alan suggested and George sighed and seemed to disagree. David agreed with Alan but just remained silent and kept darting his eyes towards the pathways to make his mind up. It was all about gambling and hoping to succeed now. 

There seemed to be a clear division in opinion and mindset between them now and eventually, George had no other option but to agree when his girlfriend gave in and rooted for David’s idea, as he had pitched it so well. It did make sense to have a split and search each tunnel but who knew how long they could go on for? And what each one would lead to. Whether they were dead ends, whether one was a trap. Ultimately, they would work better as a team than as individuals if anything did happen and the plan here was to stick together and work as one, this was their motive, they could not afford to lose each other or that’d be another problem on top of the many they had already faced and had yet to. 

“There’s a light.” David piped up when he rounded a corner in the tunnel they had chosen and looked back at the others, torch in hand, it was hard to see anything down here in this dusty, black, narrow environment until he flashed a torch upon them. One thing was for sure, they’d need a shower, if they could get it. Covered in dust and cobwebs, this place was not pleasant, but the only route into West Berlin that they had access to. If only it had been as simple as handing the officers at the gates their passes and explaining the error. But if they had done that and been caught in East with West passes, they would be seriously punished anyway, handing themselves in or not. It’d be an even bigger problem if they landed themselves in prison. 

“I think we chose the right tunnel.” Alan gleamed and started to pace ahead with David, getting to the source of light, a trapdoor above their heads, but no ladder provided to climb. David sighed and looked up, it wasn’t too high above their heads, nothing a little work couldn’t solve, but it was still an issue. George and Claudia caught up and saw what was happening and George immediately came ahead with a plan of his own. He got down onto his knees and gestured to Alan.

“Come here, I’ll lift you.” George gestured and Alan hesitated before he accepted and allowed George to help lift him up, reaching the trapdoor, but his fingertips were only just brushing the splintering wood surface, searching for the latch to release, David shon the torch up to aid him. He just wasn’t quite tall enough, George struggled, trying to lift him even further but he ended up putting him down, huffing and puffing. The tallest here was David, but he was out of the question, with his leg and all. It’d pain him to try and probably be most unwise for him to lift anybody, but he handed Claudia the torch and came to stand like George did, offering to lift Alan. 

“You can’t. Not with your leg.” George told him but he ignored him and grabbed Alan, lifting him up unsteadily at first, further, his leg strained, he felt it wobbling, throbbing, it could give way at any moment. He grimaced and gritted his teeth, going red in the face with might and pain, his eyes starting to water, huffing and puffing to contain the curse words trembling at his lips. Alan reached up and managing to get his hand on the latch, struggling at first, his fingers slipped a few times before he caught it and opened up the trapdoor latch, then attempting to budge it he shoved and pushed, the lid slowly, only slightly lifting. 

“Hurry..” David whined through his gritted teeth, “Push harder Alan!” George shouted to him and David went to lift Alan further, George came to hold David up, seeing him about to slip. But just then, Alan shoved hard enough and the trapdoor swung open. Well he thought hard enough.. But when David let him down and they looked up, there was someone up there peering down at them.

David let Alan down and they stumbled back from the entrance in a quick, shocked retreat. The man at the other end didn’t say anything about people guarding the place but then again, it was a local tavern. “You can’t be here!” The man shouted down and then looked up and around, hoping nobody was around to catch both him and them in the act. Only a small handful of people actually knew about the tunnel’s existence and for good reason too. One slip of the tongue, one friend of a soldier, one loyally brainwashed citizen, and that’d be their heads on a pike.

“Come on, quick.” He said after checking carefully, this door was underneath one of the tables in the tavern’s storage space. At the time he had been down there restocking bottles when he heard the commotion of the banging, unsettling trapdoor. He lifted a ladder and swung it down there for them, gesturing for them to hurry, as each one of them quickly took turns in climbing up, being helped up and in by the man with a strong grasp. He quickly lifted the ladder and sealed the hatchway, settling the table back and standing up, brushing himself off, as did the others. 

“What business do you have here?” He demanded at once, not letting any of them leave his sight while he had questions. His associate, at the other end, only let very few people travel through, and for a good price. But he still had the right to ask. Who would seriously want to commute to West when they were perfectly fine in East? This place was a mess. Riddled with corpses and the sound of shells and firefight. It wasn’t anywhere near as safe or sturdy here, the population was far smaller, of whom, the disposable citizens of society, the unemployed or the injured. Only the working, valuable assets were kept in East. Doctors and farmers, soldiers and factory workers. Anyone that could assist the war. The others were discarded and disowned to shiver in the face of danger. 

“To find a friend.” David braved up and spoke, answering shortly, but amply for what was asked. It was one of their motives. The man did not ask for multiple. It wouldn’t go down all too well if he came out with their ultimate mission; to escape Berlin and flee for their allies. That was, if they could make it there. It would mean sneaking through troops, and trying to prove they were allies before they were gunned down on the spot. But here’s to hoping. Maybe someone would recognise them. David and Alan were known about, but there were far too many soldiers deployed to count on that. It could be the French they ran into. How would they prove themselves then?

“You are sure they are alive?” The man wondered and eased up, allowing them to follow him up the steps towards ground level, where the tavern was in full swing, with laughter and clinking glasses, people sitting around drinking and merrily chanting, to drown out the war more than anything. They followed cautiously, whatever were they walking into here?

“I am not sure. But I will find out.” David sighed and took front position, with the others behind him, guarding them, watching ahead as they ascended and found the hallway the tunnel owner had told them about. Take the first left. They walked along and the man stopped and turned. 

“Go quickly, you are not allowed to be back here.” The man hurried them along and turned the other way, going back to tend to the barside, carrying his crate of beer. They each in turn followed out into the main area and quickly shifted through the place and right out the front door, keeping their heads down, hoping the drunken citizens paid them no notice.


	32. Separating

Bleary glares and smashing bottles had them shuffling out the door of the tavern into the bitter biting winter’s morning. Snow falling thick and fast landing upon the toecap of their boots and settling a layer upon their hair. Lights flickering and failing to illuminate the entire space from street to street. Buildings abandoned. Most boarded up with papers and cardboard from whichever factory had it spare. Asides that and the weather, this place seemed to be a ghost town. Currently anway. With the population around here being lighter and only littered with unemployed civilians, it wasn’t too odd to imagine why the place was literally deserted. They had to tred carefully as the snow merged with thin deceiving layers of ice from yesterday’s fall. It was more slippery than it appeared because of it’s transparent deception. 

David clung onto Alan for his dear life due to that fact and found it difficult to keep his balance as it was. His stick end kept slipping more so than his sturdy gripped shoes did. But with his injured leg and all he could not afford to take anymore falls or injure himself any further. This alone was a challenge he hadn’t anticipated. Like hiking Mount Everest with one leg. Straight over frozen belongings, open suitcases with torn and dirty rags that were once clothes now wrecked by the weather. Windows were smashed around but only the first floors windows and doors had been covered and protected. It would be fairly easy for a desperate individual to scale the building and find somewhere to lay their head for the night but whether it’d be anymore safe or any better than this wasteland itself was the real question. 

East Berlin was not exactly heaven in a frame and especially not for the three Englishmen stuck in the thick of it all. But it was better than this mess they had walked into. Nearby they could hear treading boots and rifles clinking against metal buckles and assumed that the familiar sound of troops taking their marches. Except on this side of the line it wouldn’t be a rally or practice regime. These would be more soldiers deployed and on the way to the borders to fight for their country and their own life all the while. With France and England at the borders in amidst vicious firefight and arsenal. East Berlin’s borders were being more recently threatened by Russian troops as Stalin and Hitler had came to a blockage in their roadway; their alliance had come to a quick end. It meant more bombings, more danger, more reason to flee as quick and efficient as possible. Which is why today, was the only day acceptable to them all. This could not happen any later on. It could not happen tomorrow. In George’s mind at least. David was willing to do whatever it took to find his distant lover before he left. He could not leave without her. Even if it was cuddling a bodybag to his chest. He needed to take her with him or know what had become of her either way. Mentally, he was prepared for both outcomes but it was still going to be hard to face if she was worse for wears. 

One by one they assembled at the nearest corner and stood in a close circle. “Where to?” David wondered to George as he assumed the man had some sense of direction from here. If he could work out where abouts the man wanted to go he could negotiate his own route into that mixture hopefully. He did not want to have to face this alone but he would if everyone else wanted to get out. He understood the urgency there and did not want any of them to follow him if it meant them putting their life at risk.

“To Zietenplatz. From there we can use the main roads straight towards our troops. They’ve reached Potsdamer as far as I am aware.” George spoke firmly and pointed towards the stretch ahead of them and then made a few hand movements of left and rights to direct himself mentally. He knew where to go but it was in the entire different direction from where David wanted to drop by. 

“I need to go back to my apartment here.” David sighed and rubbed his stubble as he immediately anticipated a disagreement coming up as he spoke. The change in George’s expression said everything before he needed to vocalise himself and his opinion but David would listen respectfully, last thing he needed on his hands was an irritated officer. 

“Is it not on the way?” George frowned and crossed his arms in a defensive gesture at once. He was ready to argue and David could just sense it. Everything about him change and sprung ready for it but David was not up for it. He did not want to waste time nor aggravate him. 

“It’s in the entirely opposite direction.” David muttered out with some hesitation at first. Should he even bother asking? The answer was obviously no. But he would at least have Alan with him. He was sure Alan would come along. Wouldn’t he? 

“So…” George raised a brow and expected an answer out of David further than that. What he was suggesting was ridiculous and clearly not something that would be guaranteed for any of them. It wasn’t guaranteed to be worthwhile. It would mean much more walking through this weather. It meant possibly missing timings and getting caught in a tricky situation. It would throw a lot of schedule off for them all.

“Well are you coming to help me or are we saying goodbye here.” David put it bluntly and looked towards Alan now, seeing the hesitation in the man’s eyes and lips too and wondering what he may have to say. He was far more shy to input than David and George. Both leaders. Both dominant and strong in their own way. Alan was more of a sheep than a shepherd. 

“I don’t want to put Claudia in that position. You must understand. I would otherwise but I have my life and hers to think about here. With no guarantees. We’re struck for time. I can’t promise you that I’m afraid. So I guess it will be goodbye. If you don’t want to come along? Do you really think she’s still going to be waiting around?” George hit a nerve with what he ended his speech and David’s hands balled into fists behind his back subtly, clenching his jaw, looking down at the floor and taking a few deep breaths before he spoke. 

“I do understand. I have faith she will be there.” David sounded half-hearted no matter how hard he tried to convince even himself that his lover would be waiting. It seemed too good to be true that she’d wait. He could just be deluded in the way of thinking what they had was special. Could it have been special enough to her to stay around? It was to him. “I guess it is goodbye, then.” 

“Yes. Then farewell friend, I will pray for you two tonight, I’ll let ours know to expect you at some point.” George told them both and gave them both a brief and firm hug, patting of the backs, quick and rigid. With that they stood back and nodded to one another before they were turning backs and going off on their way, separating, but only for now. Only until they found Emily.


	33. Oblivion

“I heard there’s been recent mortar fire in that area.” Alan muttered to David as they walked and conversed about where they were headed. Where they had originally been stationed and settled before the wall, there had been reported bombings around, so they had no idea what they were walking into, and whether they were even going to find Emily alive. Many people lost one another in this dreadful time. It was a period of great depression and masses lost each day, to the war alone. Truthfully, David did not agree with war at all and hated the violence and drama in fact but all males had been made to work and serve for the country, there wasn’t much say in it unless you had pre-existing injuries or were either too young or old to do so. 

“Really? So our apartment may not even be there?” David frowned and grew worried as they grew closer and closer and the streets began to look even more deserted and damaged by fire and destruction. There were plenty boot prints along the snow of the roads, and tank trails, leading out to where the German troops would be deployed to fight off the French and English forces fighting on the other end at the border. 

“Possibly not but- let’s not think the worst.” Alan told him as they stepped through the snow and avoided the icey patches of the bumpy pavements. Upturned cars and some even burnt out. The atmosphere deteriorated as they went on along streets closer to their own once neighbourhood. It would be a miracle if their apartment was left untouched by some cause or another. There were little doubts it hadn’t been raided and emptied already. Out here it was dog eat dog. Survival of the fittest - and the smartest. In East Berlin there was more of an establishment and less people out of homes and in the rough. Out in West, it was a danger zone, full and true. If it wasn’t the nightly mortar fire raining down, it was the people themselves, crazed with the mission of finding food, water and shelter alone. And with the collapse of their finance under the strain of affording all the military efforts and equipment, the tight budget meant even the rations were scarce. 

It was strange to think that just a year ago, the place was thriving for once. Despite still paying it’s reparations back from the humiliating retreat of World War One, nobody was out of work, everyone was eating, the rights of farmers were back. Hitler had actually introduced some good to the people before he suddenly made a turn for the worst and started this oblivion. His regimes and ways of mind control had been unsettling but at least the population was well before this. He had done one good job and quickly erased the do-goodery. But people here were already under his spell, worshipping the man, and following his orders as a collective population. It was rare to find anyone against him around here, perhaps the few communists that had managed to hide and were yet to be found and slaughtered like the rest. Once the Nazi party took over and won the seats, everything went to hell. 

Their stunt with the Reichstag was rather one of the only methods they had used that’d actually worked in getting them into power. Hitler was stuck in his position below the chancellor before that point, and somehow, in blaming the communists, the only other party opposing them at that point, it turned everyone against them. It was pretty much reworking of Emperor Nero’s own. Burning down the reichstag to build their new army and instill their power, blaming it on other people, craftily working every rig to make sure they had no way to prove otherwise. It was sly and very evil but it had worked. 

Soldiers came marching past quickly, all kitted up in their camo, metal helmets on, guns strapped firmly to their chests as they ran straight forth down the road in front of them. Alan and David stopped and allowed them to pass, standing to attention and saluting a nearby officer that marched by and glanced their way. If they didn’t show some level of respect and keep to order, they would just risk themselves being found out. It was all ‘normal’ working order until they were in the safety of their own territory, surrounded by their own people once again. Around here the strict regimes meant even civilians were expected to salute generals and the likes. Everything was kept tightly locked into place, by the ‘fuhrer’ himself. The more they slipped it into place and kept a strong lead over their people, the less likely they were to suspect anything other than what was fed to them. The extremities of censorship said it all really, only what the Nazi’s produced was allowed, and it was jam-packed with just enough propaganda to keep them all blind. 

“I am definitely glad they didn’t put us on the front line again.” Alan sighed as the troops had passed and they were able to cross slowly, avoiding yet more ice. The roads particularly dangerous, the black ice collected, invisible to the eye but more slippery than anything visible so they both had to be careful. David particularly, he did not want to slip and further injure his already damaged leg, which would take long to heal with him still limping about on it despite everything. Once he was back in England he could make a recovery and take a rest but while he was here and they were slowly but surely bound to be discovered, they had to run, neither of them had time to seek proper medical attention or sit down and rest, not while their lives were at risk. A throbbing aching leg and wounded chest were worth the risk for what worse could come of them if they remained idol. They had the information they needed, the time they had already spent here was too long considering their mission, and they had pretty much been dropped in the deep end. So much for a rescue mission… They had been originally told they’d be escorted and transported safely out after two weeks, it had been a month and still nothing, but they suspected just as much. 

“It is way too intense out there. I guess it’d be pretty treacherous of them to give us medals and then chuck us straight back out there huh?” David mentioned and laughed shortly, bitterly, with what position their own had landed them in. They were meant to be spies, this was meant to be executed quick and clean. Whatever had happened to their backup, it can’t have been good, if they had even been sent that was.

They shuffled by people wrapped up in blankets, shivering, sat along the roadside, looking close to death. But there was not much that could be done there. They were hardly in the position to take them somewhere safe and warm. Out here they had no ration stamps. Theirs were for East and labelled as such. They had made it a tricky game for anyone to attempt to sneak from West to East with everything down to rations. Which is what the rush was about. Because soon they’d start to starve and lose all their energy for escaping. While they were still up and active and had enough energy to go, they had to make a move. It was good to make stews with the rations rather than anything else, it made for stockpiles of food and was filling enough and nutritional enough to last them and did a better job than anything other. And the taste was close to home, more bearable than anything else conjured up out of the limited resources they had. 

With the people piled onto the streets and more wreckages they passed as they got closer to the apartment, it didn’t look too good, but they ignored the bomb wrecked houses and mortar holes in the roads and focused on making it there, helping each other balance as they turned the corner to their street and walked up slowly, then inspecting the mess of the place. Each house had been boarded up, more people were laid out on the streets or making their way to the subways, somewhere at least sheltered, housing many people as it is. There was a woman hugging up to a corpse, the blue face of a dead male, assuming it was her faithful other. It was such a saddening sight, David had to hope he didn’t have that to come. He wanted to find Emily alive and well, he believed he would.. but that hope was fading the longer he spent looking for her and the less in sight she became. 

David rummaged through his deep pockets and found the key to the house, looking around, there didn’t appear to be any damage from the outside but what lied within was another question. Because of the terraced design around here, once one house was hit, if snow didn’t fall thick and fast, fire could spread and wipe out more buildings, spread the damage further than the initial hit point. The place around them looked pretty battered and the people didn’t look to be fairing well, but it was the way around West nowadays, the place was almost no man’s land, especially with their allied troops advancing and wiping through storms of German troops. In the far distance, gunshots sounded, and fire was just on the horizon. Closer than they may think…


	34. Ambush?

One step. That’s all he had time for…

“Grrmmmm!” David growled and protested against a hand coming across both his eyes and mouth, another pairs of hands dragging him inside after Alan as he had proceeded to hold the heavy fire safe door for his fellow friend. In courtesy he thought…

Thudding up the stairs with the great tugs and struggle that ensued as the door slammed shut but both David and Alan’s main senses were blocked with pieces of handkerchief and blindfolds that replaced the large grimey hands initially immobilising them. Alan was more in shock and although he kicked a little, he was easier to shift than a kicking, growling, struggling, frenzied David. He did not give up without a good fight at least; that was valuable to them.

Only the crackling of glasses under heavy footed males and forceful movements were clear to them both in both shock and pretty much, hopeless. In a guess, there were three men to each of them. It was how tactfully they executed the whole manoeuvre, it’s like they pre-empted all of this, expected them to arrive. But what was their intention here? So far one could only assume really grave things, with all they felt so far, rough and careless shoves but not a single hand there was attempting to inflict pain. With the multiple footsteps, it could’ve been anybody, it could’ve been the military themselves with the way their boots thudded, David couldn’t misplace that familiar rubber friction against the wooden planked floors. But if there were so many of them, why were they not hitting and kicking them into submission like the average, aggressive, ill-mannered group would. Mobstas and rogues of the streets would do just that, and definitely, wouldn’t have the firm hand, brains, or knowledge to restrain and transport them in such a way. 

Both of them had been in many tight situations in their service to the English Army already, well, David’s was originally for the air force before he was transferred to the ground patrol with the army. Originally, he had been shuffled into the airforce and flew a few missions in bomber planes. Lancaster Bombers to be more specific. Low gliding, heavy and armoured bomber planes, manned by six or seven well trained individuals. But oh.. he could not complain. The death rate up above hung a solemn mercy to the ones below. Yes. Many, many innocent, many soldiers, on ground, died in the war. But the planes? With the Japanese Kamikaze planes at every angle, German spitfires pulling off sweeping side manoeuvres, the chaos, the likelihood of ambush when going anywhere close to their airways, was such a risk that these bomber planes, the crews of planes would take. David probably would’ve probably already had the mercy of a quick, painless, and unaware death in an explosion in one of those airtanks if he hadn’t been moved so suddenly. 

Alan had been originally based on a submarine in the medittaranean, right in the middle of another shitstorm entirely. People would hear mostly of the boots on ground action but people died above, on, and below sea level in vast numbers by the day, by the hour sometimes. Depends what day it was, how lucky they were feeling, and what the next plan of action was going to be. Each day was living life on the edge, not really knowing whether today was going to be life, or death. One moment you could be in the safest, most confident posture of your life. The next, a sniper bullet could crack straight through your skull, especially in the more armed and stealthy positions of the battles. Some of the battles were fought with single snipers camping out stealthily in ‘abandonned’ buildings, bomb blitzed, or damaged in some way shape or form, using their training, to avoid sight, moving after each shot, taking each one down. 

David fell to his knees and then onto his front with a great, muffled, but shrieking scream as he landed on his bad leg, and cried out in pain, grasping at it for comfort. Alan fell beside him and a door slammed shut somewhere in the distance behind them, quiet mutters, whispers, more thudding boots, plenty enough of them to tell the two, it was brains over braun in this moment. Braun said get up and fight back. Brains said stay down on the floor and do what they say. This was no simple mugging, just what on earth was going on. The drop to the floor was a little more forceful than anything else but it wasn’t intended? David felt someone yank the rag from his mouth, another pair of hands untying the blindfold, as yet another was holding the injured leg, rolling up the leg of his trousers immediately. Alan had the same treatment as he grunted and grimaced with the impact of his chest, extremely bruised, sore, and quite painful. Just as he was allowed to open his eyes and take in the sight, the extreme light hit him, but also, the prod of metal at his temple, and grasp of a hand to steady his jaw, holding him in place. Told him it wasn’t mercy yet, but the lessening of bondage did have him compliant. 

He felt a few teardrops roll down from the corner of his eyes, it stung, and definitely shocked a reaction out of him. He feared he may’ve even injured himself worse than he originally suffered from that one bad fall. But he squinted past the initial shock of the lighting in the room and down at a male inspecting and working on his leg already, medic kit out, and he was in full camos. Russian? The USSR flag stood out immediately on the male’s lappel, beret and shoulder badge. Another male, an American too? In West Berlin? 

Oh no. They forgot they were still in enemy territory, wearing enemy badges, probably speaking that very language before they opened the door. It spelled enemy to these armed men, just looking to save their own backs. But all he had to do was open his mouth - he hoped. There was no faking his strong cockney accent, once it was out.

“I-m.. I’m one’a you. So’s he.” David tried his best despite the pain sending shooting pains through his body, making him tremble and spasm in shock, wide eyes now, rolling almost, as he saw white for a moment, the pain of the male medic, pressing an alcohol doused rag to his raw injury. “We’re not Gerrys.. We’re not…..” He faded out and slipped down into the male behind him, supporting him, but they got the picture. 

“Englishmen huh?” The American soldier closest spoke up and looked over at Alan being treated and supported all the same, shirt shrugged down his shoulders, wide open, with another medically trained Russian soldier on the case. Some of them looked battered themselves, as Alan was more capable, and in far less pain than even David, enough to contain his conciousness. If that was even possible, it seared as the bandage was unwound, and the alcohol rub was applied to his wound too. It seemed more injured men were holed up in here, bandaged heads, legs, laying down on make-do beds. What had they just walked into? What was once their dingy West Berlin apartment was now a medical center? With allied troops armed inside. Did the Germans know about his breach yet? What was their situation. So many questions, so little breath, so little energy to do so in that moment. 

“Yes. We’re allies. Not Germans. I know how it looks.” Alan replied and looked over at the American kneeling by him, the other soldiers spoke broken enough English, enough to communicate. “We were sent in to- gather information behind enemy lines. But our escape plans, didn’t exactly happen and we were.. stuck in.. East Berlin. We’ve only just gotten out, barely, they’re cracking down on everything over there.”

David was lifted and moved onto one of the make-shift beds to be treated and supported there enough for another man not to have his head in his lap. With a little communication, the others understood the situation and the hostility that once was, just moments ago, had ceased all together. But the American had more questions for Alan first. Some crafty Germans.. They’d already had a few cases of catching spies in England, France, Russia. Ones which had learnt to imitate the English accent almost indistinguishably, only a few words could give the game away, phonetic differences, accent changes mid-sentence, they had to be damn good, and damn fluent enough to pull that off. But who knew? They had to be careful. To them it looked like two German males.

“Any others out there?” The American asked Alan, firmly, still on guard beside the medic treating him. “What squad did you come from?” 

“Yes. There are others. But we do not know where to find them. Only one. British General is out there somewhere with his girlfriend trying to flee to ours. His name is George Ritz. We separated just back along the road there.” Alan told the soldier all he knew, or all he could babble inbetween more disgruntled noises, manning up as much as he could, he could be much much worse. Like some of the men laying around here, some without limbs. This must’ve been a plan initiated at last minute, to get shelter and aid those in bad states. Judging by the distant gunshots and loud bangs, they couldn’t have been as far from here as David and Alan had assumed. For their own men to be right here. Relief or regret? It was yet to be known.


End file.
